


novocaine || naruto characters x reader one shots

by moosetracksandscenechanges



Category: Naruto
Genre: Angst, Awkward Sexual Situations, Explicit Language, F/F, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fighting, Half-hearted Fight Scene, Hate Sex, Hospitals, Light Angst, Mentions of Shogi, Neighbors, One-Sided Attraction, Separations, making out in the woods, mentions of breeding kink, mentions of knives, whittling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:22:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 25,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24903763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moosetracksandscenechanges/pseuds/moosetracksandscenechanges
Summary: "they took our love and they filled it up / filled it up with novocaine and now i'm just numb / now i'm just numb"naruto characters/reader one shots. similar request format to my jojo's one shots, i go into more detail in the first chapter. female reader by default, willing to make exceptions :>thanks! love, moose <3
Relationships: Hatake Kakashi/Reader, Hyuuga Neji/Reader, Inuzuka Kiba/Reader, Nara Shikamaru/Reader, Rock Lee/Reader, Uchiha Itachi/Reader, Uchiha Sasuke/Reader
Comments: 25
Kudos: 257





	1. request etiquette, chapter notices, info, etc.

hey gamers, what's up? i realized i have it too deep for this fuckin' show, and i really need an outlet. so here's stuff i wanna lay down:

1\. requests

first of all, if i'm not uncomfortable with it, i'll probably do it. i'm fine with sfw and nsfw, and honestly i'm just grateful to get any requests. 

2\. request template

second of all, i'll probably follow the request template for my other oneshot collection abt jojo's. you say the character (reader insert, that's my forte and the only shit i write), the situation, and if you want it to be themed after a song, say it. tell me if it's sfw or nsfw.

3\. kinkshaming

i like to joke that i don't like to kinkshame but i will make fun of you, and that's only partially true. i will make fun of you, but like, we're all here to do weird shit, right? i have read enough fic to be desensitized to a LOT of things, and this is self-indulgent. apparently people don't like reader insert, but since you guys are here to insert yourselves, self-indulgence is par for the course. if i know how to write it, i will. if it's not ooc, i'll try my best.

4\. gender

i am not a statistician. i was like one mental breakdown away from failing chemistry. but i'm pretty sure the majority of fanfic writers and readers are women, gay guys, or somewhere in between. i'm willing to accommodate any request, and i believe in trans rights wholeheartedly. because i want to go for realism (i know this is naruto fanfiction, but i'm 100% serious), i want to do my research. i am a feminist, but i consider naruto a piece from the perspective of a creator writing for a demographic that would not initially be attracted to feminism, and throughout several powerful women (not just in combat) proves that although he may not understand the exact perspective of a woman, he tries his best to represent them. i write not just out of passion but also strongly out of spite, and before i unironically got into this magnificent show, someone i hold in very low regards told me she didn't believe it was a feminist work. now i know that she has no goddamn clue what she's talking about. even if ino's sole motivation was gaining sasuke's affections, i will treat her character as more than that. because i am better than this person i will not name.

5\. general mind-your-business philosophy

this is inspired by a fall out boy song. i write on a fanfiction website as a hobby. once in middle school i talked to a girl solely through notes in each other's lockers and when the opportunity arose to actually talk to her offline i hid behind a chair. she could see me. she moved to florida and i haven't spoken to her since. i'm not gonna judge you. you don't have to apologize for requests. i love each and every one of you who chooses to read this, and if i make a joke, it's because i see myself as a bisexual cross between don rickles and john mulaney with a crippling addiction to adderall. don't be assholes in my comment section, and don't be assholes to each other.

tl;dr don't like don't read.


	2. kiba || "damn dog"; fame<infamy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i love kiba and akamaru so much, if you couldn't tell. this was inspired by that one comic writer who i think is on boredpanda? and i mean, like, someone who draws comics, not like a writer for snl or something. anyways, hope you like it and hope you stay hydrated!
> 
> this chapter was inspired by "fame<infamy" by fall out boy, which is an absolute banger. love, moose <3

Clinging to Kiba tightly, you shifted and groaned as he held you, sharp teeth digging into the crook of your shoulder. You pushed his hood down by the matted faux fur in an attempt to soothe your constant nervous energy. What little left of his face you could see were those claret triangles starting at his cheekbones and tapering off before his jaw, but his messy brown locks tickled the back of your neck and the side of your jaw. It didn’t matter right now how you felt romantically about the shinobi; what mattered at the moment was how long you craved this, how much you needed him right now. “K—Kiba, shit,” your voice undulated quietly, starting off at a normal volume and retreating quickly.

“What? What’s wrong?” He broke off abruptly, the animalistic expression sliding off of his face. “You okay?” Those deep brown eyes of his… A wave of self-awareness hit you yet again and you took in your position: your friend slash rival holding you up against him by the ass and thighs, his palms—larger than yours—pressed to the small of your back to pull you closer, carrying you to another room to blow your back out, stopped to make sure you were alright. Fuck, this was too much to handle… You were sure your face started to heat up again. “(Y/n)? Don’t stroke out on me… We can stop, if you want.”

“I’m… I’m fine, don’t worry, just…” You averted your gaze. This was embarrassing, and even more shameful was how inflammatory your pride always proved to be. The two of you were friends, why were you filled with chagrin? God, the way he looked at you right now, eyes glazed over with lust _and_ concern… You closed your eyes and inhaled, exhaling through your nose. “It just feels good, is all,” you mumbled with the smallest grin you could muster, refusing to look at him. 

His furrowed brow and frown parted swiftly to make way for that trademark smirk. “Yeah, we are pretty good, aren’t we,” he teased lowly, adjusting his grip on your flank as he latched back onto your collarbone, leaving hickeys for days to come, you were sure of it. You chose to ignore his use of the pronoun _we_ , seeing as he was… just _one_ person, because you were currently more focused on the task at hand. Your digits fumbled for the zipper to his coat, trying to push it off as fast as you could without getting stuck; arousal really scrambled your senses. Kiba’s lean torso, toned from taijutsu and practice with Akamaru, practically radiated heat. 

In some subconscious desire for warmth, you dug your nails into his back, pressing yourself closer, but the lower his lips traveled, the needier you felt. Kiba let out a gentle whine—you were straddling him, and he still hadn’t put you down yet, the friction between your legs meeting his. The shinobi lifted the fabric of your top over your head, and you unclasped the padding he wore over his tight mesh shirt. He fumbled with your fly, eventually tugging off your pants before he wriggled out of his own, leaving him in patterned boxers with a noticeable bulge. You thumbed the taut muscle of his abdomen, rubbing small circles right where your thighs met his stomach, before tightening your grip and adjusting your position against his junk. Kiba hesitated, mumbling something into the skin of your shoulder. “Do you like that?” It sounded different when you said it, sounded a bit more needy than seductive yet still retaining a slight tone of arrogance.

“Sh—shut up,” he mutters, face aflame, pressing slightly chapped lips to your jaw, “I’ve just been thinking about this for a while,” before silencing you again. God, he’s so close. There’s so _much_ of him here. It’ll be hard to get his taste out of your mouth later on. You reckon you’ll end up smelling like him for a while—that distinct scent of dog mixed with the forest. Maybe something only he could detect, maybe something Shikamaru and Hinata and the others would pick up on, but whatever it was, you didn’t mind. It wasn’t great, but you liked it enough. Your head tilts as Kiba opens his mouth just a little, and your fingers sift through his soft hair, running it ragged and messing it up even further. He sets you down on the arm of the couch, and it seems like he had wanted to do the same to your hair for a while, pulling it out of its ponytail and casting aside your headband. You tear his out of the knot with swift precision, and it falls to the ground unnoticed. “And I think you want this just as much as I do,” he growls into your lips, half-lidded eyes maybe even more enticing than his full-blown lust-filled ones.

As your back slid onto the pillows of the couch, Kiba kissed you hard, pulling your thighs back to either side of him. A familiar bark came from your left, and a white flash bounded towards the shinobi, nuzzling his side. “Hey, Akamaru,” he says in the same husky tone with a grin that made your insides turn, reaching under the arch of your back to unclasp your bra, but you stopped his larger hand. “Huh? You good?”

You tried to swallow the lump in your throat. It was rather difficult to reconcile the unease of the dog’s innocent gaze with the way your fellow shinobi’s eyes made your lower region ache. “Are… are you sure we should do this in front of Akamaru…?” 

He sits up, straddling you with your legs splayed open; you notice he’s starting to soften. “Huh—? Wait, what? Why not?”

“Kiba…” Was he serious? This felt… wrong, on so many levels. “Look, even though I may be more of a cat person, I don’t _hate_ dogs, but even then, I… He’s… I’m not going to fuck you while your dog watches us. Hell, if he’s even in the room, I... I just don’t think I can.”

Something replaces the spark in his deep brown eyes. “What the hell, (Y/n)? You know Akamaru is like a part of me. He’s not just my dog, he’s my best friend.”

“Okay, that’s it. You’re not going on some diatribe about this.” You wriggled out from beneath him, trying to ignore your dripping arousal. It was dead now. The dog had so unknowingly killed the mood. “I know virginity is a construct or whatever, but losing mine means a lot to me. I’m not going to do it in front of Akamaru.” You shrugged on the closest articles of clothing you could find and fixed up your hair, half-heartedly tying your shoes. “Sorry, Kiba. See you when I see you, I guess.”

“Wait, (Y/n)—”

The door closed.

Kiba bit his lip. It all happened so fast… Akamaru looked up at him with literal puppy dog eyes. “No, it’s not your fault, buddy,” he sighed, scratching him behind the ears. The white dog attempted to snuggle against his abdomen, but the memories of your touch there and its lasting effects only minutes ago flashed through his head like poison. How you groaned against him… the way you rubbed circles with your thumb, but also the way you used your palm to get up and walk away. Kiba gently pushed away the canine, who gazed at him with an almost wounded expression. “Sorry, Akamaru, not there,” he explained, somewhat unsure as to whether or not the animal understood the concept of an awkward boner. “I’m… going to go take care of this, but I’ll be back.”

After the haze cleared, Kiba went to pick up his clothes, before realizing you had left your jacket. You had his coat and your pants and shirt, but you left your dumb jacket. That one ridiculous too-big jacket you had worn every day for years, the stupid way it made you look so small and cute when you were kids but especially now. He picked it up, smoothing it over. It… had your scent. The forest. Like grass before it rains and freshly whittled wood chips. Akamaru made his way over and habitually sniffed it, turning to the door. Like he needed another reminder that you were gone. What should he do? Get it back to you? God, what had even happened? One moment, he was out with a few friends, the next the two of you were going back to his place. Then, you were gone. With his clothes. You must have picked up the wrong jacket in your aggravation. Damn, he ruined it all with you… but wait, what exactly did he ruin?

For some reason, he felt the urge to put it on. To envelop himself in your scent. So he did, and it was more powerful than ever. This was what you wore whenever you trained or just sat in the forest for hours on end, whittling away at any stick you could find that was decently uniform in width. God, the years he had spent pining… all for nothing. Because Akamaru meant so much to him that he just couldn’t tolerate your dismissal of him. The shinobi fell flat on his back on the couch with yet another sigh, wrapped in your oversized coat that just… happened to be exactly his size, _God,_ this was awful…

Shikamaru was exactly where he expected—lying down on that bench, staring at the clouds. It was a beautiful day, and his friend had the slightest smile on his face. He had one of those constant expressions that made it a little difficult to tell whether or not he was sleeping with his eyes open. Kiba walked over. “Can I sit here?”

“Yeah,” the chunin moved over slightly. “What’s got you down?”

The dog owner started. “Excuse me?”

“I said, what’s got you down? What’s wrong?” Shikamaru propped himself up a little with his forearm. “Akamaru’s not here. You’re usually off in the woods training with him, not sitting around and watching the clouds. So what’s with you?”

“Just…” Kiba’s gaze lowered. “Just girl problems.”

He exhaled probably louder than Kiba had ever heard. “Ugh… what a drag. Want to talk about it? I’ve got to warn you, though—if you want advice, all I can tell you is this.” Shikamaru sat up, posture abandoned, his thumbs and digits pressed together in a circle between his knees, before turning to stare pointedly at Kiba, one finger extended. “Don’t bother. Women are insane and terrifying. It’s seriously a drag. If one already controls you, you’re done for.” Having made his mildly chauvinistic point, Shikamaru let himself fall back into his former relaxed position.

“Too late, I guess.” Kiba ran a hand through shaggy hair not quite covered by your jacket as well as his did. “She’s… I don’t know.”

“Not a good sign.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, I know. She’s a hurricane… It’s a complicated situation.”

Shikamaru ‘tch’ed. “Try me, dog boy. I’m lazy, not stupid.”

“I’ve always really liked her, but never knew how to bring it up. So I was just kind of friends with her, but also kind of rivals. Nothing like Naruto and Sasuke, but pretty volatile. So what happened was that I was out with a few friends. Mainly Kurenai and the rest of our team, but also a few other people. _She’s_ there.” Kiba leans back, staring at the clouds as they pass by. “We start to argue about a few things. It gets pretty heated. Everyone else goes home at some point or another, and then we… we end up going back to my place.”

The shadow ninja opened an eye. “Wait. Wait, seriously? You really…? Way to go, man. Uh, congratulations, I guess.” He shook Kiba’s hand awkwardly.

“Well…” he sighed. “We’re both, uh… ready, and then Akamaru comes over and says hi. Y’know, how he usually…” Kiba trailed off, instinctually moving his hand to where your hands had tugged at his scalp. “How he usually does. Um, she gets super uncomfortable. Saying how she doesn’t think we should do it in front of him. Like he’s just some dog, but he’s not. So I say that he’s more than a dog, he’s my best friend, and she freaks out. She says she’s not going to let me go on a _diatribe_ , whatever that means, and that losing her virginity is important to her, and then she takes my coat and leaves. And I haven’t seen her since.”

“A diatribe is like a rant, dumbass.” Shikamaru stared up at the sky. “And—and seriously? Seriously? _That’s_ what happened?” Kiba narrowed his eyes, looking over at the shadow ninja. “What are you worried about? It’s not like I know anything about women, but she clearly likes you for more than scratching an itch. Besides, would you have sex with her in front of Shino or Hinata?”

“I… Well…” Kiba blanched. “No, but I mas—I, uh… No. You’re right.”

“Is she as close to Akamaru as you are?”

“No, but—”

“So would you fuck her in front of someone you’re not as close to? Say, Sasuke?”

“No, defini—oh. I get it.” The dog owner dragged his hands down his face. “Damn it.”

“Go tell (Y/n) you like her.” Shikamaru gestured vaguely, already annoyed. “Then you can finally bone and get out of my hair. I shouldn’t have to get you to connect these dots. It’s such a drag.”

Kiba had never felt more relieved and confused at the same time. “Hold on—how did you know it was (Y/n)?”

“She told me. Plus, you’re wearing each other’s jackets.” The dark-haired ninja settled his hands under his head. “Damn, you’re both useless about feelings. Just be yourselves, it’s all so stupid.”

“Thanks, Shikamaru.”

“No problem.” He closed his eyes again. “Wait, were you going to say that you _masturbate_ in front of your—?”

The genin was gone.

“Damn, it’s a miracle she likes that guy,” he muttered to himself, before settling in for a nap. 

“C’mon, Akamaru!” Kiba hollered, falling in line with his best friend before starting to run around, looking for you. “We’re gonna find her!” The dog barked in agreement.

You opened the door, slipping on your sandals. God, you felt like shit, and you really couldn’t tell if Kiba’s jacket was making you feel better or worse. Because on one hand, his scent was comforting even when you weren’t irreverently horny, but on the other hand, you missed him. You missed hugging him before all of this happened, you missed the smell of dog and the woods, and pressing your face to the fur lining was almost too much to handle. It was so warm… Kiba was just someone you enjoyed being around, and of course you had to ruin it. You didn’t really feel bad about _why_ you left, just that you did. You winced at the memory of Akamaru’s wide eyes and open mouth, looking so innocent and unsuspecting. It would be… a bit much if that was how you lost your virginity.

Whatever… you shouldn’t be thinking about that. It was just… time to get groceries.

And then a giant dog slammed into you.

“Fuck! What the hell—?” It started to lick your neck and face without reprieve, and you started laughing without thinking. You weren’t the biggest fan of expressing that way in front of other people, especially in public, because you tried to keep a mildly stoic or at least snarky persona, but it was so unexpected that you kept giggling as the canine attacked you with kisses. “Aw, who’s a good p—hold up... Akamaru?”

He paused, tail wagging like an electronic metronome in a thunderstorm, head cocked as he looked down at you. So it _was_ Akamaru. Your eyes widened. Then that means—

“Sorry, he gets excited—oh. Hey.” Kiba swallowed audibly. Akamaru turned around and rubbed against his leg. Your old friend held out his hand, and without thinking, you took it and stood up. “He always did like you a lot.”

“You guys have that in common, right?” You crossed your arms against your chest, one eyebrow quirked. Kiba’s gaze flew up to meet yours, cheeks red even around the claret triangles he usually had there, gaping a little. It was cute. He was cute. Fuck, you missed him. “I talked to Shikamaru, if you’re wondering how I knew. He told you I feel the same way, right?” Kiba nodded rather slowly. “I went out to get groceries, but I should tell you… I’m sorry. About what happened last time. I know he means a lot to you, and I was just saying I didn’t want him in the room, not that I think he’s just a dog to you.”

“Nah, it’s… it’s fine.” He scratched behind Akamaru’s ears. “I realized it must have been pretty weird, ‘cause you’re not used to being around him all the time. So if...” Kiba rubbed his elbow through your jacket, avoiding your gaze. “...if you want to start something, I can… keep him in another room when we… uh…”

“You know what?” You felt the corners of your mouth curve upwards. “I’d like that.”


	3. shikamaru || "chasing clouds"; lying on the floor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> shikamaru is the fuckin' best, man. hope you like it and hope you're doing well! stay hydrated.
> 
> this chapter was inspired by "lying on the floor" by violent soho. i really like the song and hope you check it out :>
> 
> thanks for reading!
> 
> love, moose <3

He notices it in the way that Asuma lights his cigarette and holds it between his teeth. It’s an addiction, more so a habit than an active pursuit. Even though Shikamaru doesn’t smoke, he can understand the impulse to do something, the inexplicable draw to someone even without a net positive result. He really didn’t like being addicted to anything, it made everything more and more troublesome. Life was really just a collection of choices, and Shikamaru preferred to think his through before making them. So when you asked him to teach you his favorite game, he very much had to consider it for a while before accepting your request.

There’s always a smile on Asuma’s face when he takes a drag from those cancer sticks. Not that he really cared. Do what you want, you know? Smoke all you like. But the only thing you had in common with Asuma’s addiction was that his mind kept going back to you without reprieve. God, this was such a drag, this internal conflict...

Shikamaru’s gaze tracks your fingers as you hold the shogi piece. He can’t reason his way out of knowing why he’s memorizing so many details about you. Your thumb curves inwards, your knuckles stand out, you have the kind of hands he’d like to hold. Anyone worth their salt or anything more would know that you didn’t have any ulterior motives, and of course he knew that, his palm shaking under the table. Of course he knew that. Yet his mind still raced like he was in the middle of battle, having to think several steps ahead on the fly. 

“Every piece has to face your opponent,” he sighs, and you flinch. “It’s the wrong way around.”

Mind hazy, you try to recall the rules of the game that he had _definitely_ told you a few minutes ago. Shit, you were way in over your head. Everything went blurry for a moment, before refocusing. Even though you _knew_ he just thought this was a game, even though it was a fact that he couldn’t be really analyzing you, because you were _just_ learning how to play, it felt like he could read your mind and it was like the capstone of your load-bearing wall was starting to stagger. “R—right...” It was a ploy for his affections to make you seem smarter, but you were drowning in this sea of… shogi pieces… Fucking hell. You couldn’t pretend to be someone you weren’t, what the hell were you thinking? He wouldn’t buy it.

“And—” You almost set down the pawn piece two spaces ahead, but froze at the sound of his voice. “—you can’t move the pawn more than one space per turn. It’s not a promoted pawn.” 

You were smart, smarter than the others where it counts, but you cared too much about what other people thought. Anxiety wracked your being. A smart person thinking stupid things sometimes. Pretty much the opposite of Naruto. So what? Well, it impeded your decision making. So when it came to setting down that shogi piece, it took you a great deal of time. Not because you were strategizing, but because you knew Shikamaru would be analyzing you like a cheetah hunting its prey. And he couldn’t help it. Even though he knew you were just now learning how to play, even though he wasn’t trying to beat you, he didn’t know how to keep his mind off of you.

“Of course… right.”

A bead of sweat crosses from the leftmost edge of your forehead down your neck and he curses himself internally. You had no idea what was going on. For all he knew, the kanji on the shogi pieces bled together in your mind. Maybe you weren’t even listening to him when he was teaching you. 

The chunin coughed. Your head snapped up, the absolute panic in your eyes sending a few pangs of regret reverberating through his chest. “You don’t know what to do, do you?” _Shit_ , he thought worriedly as your pupils dilated, irises shrinking.

A heavy sigh, and then your shoulders slackened. “Yeah, I have no idea what I’m doing.”

What would that be, the _fifth_ time he’d tried to explain it to you? Shikamaru closed his eyes in annoyance. That was the perfect description of his situation regarding you: annoyance. The amount of caution his useless brain demanded whenever he was around you vexed him to no end. So what was his next move? Re-explaining it to you, for the _fifth_ time? What a drag. Why were you even doing this in the first place? He could have taken a nap, but no, that stupid prefrontal cortex of his decided to say yes to your stupid offer. “Why, (Y/n)?”

“I, uh…” You started to bluescreen, scratching your neck and looking away. “Why… what, exactly?”

“Why ask me to teach you to play shogi if you’re not going to understand?” Shikamaru tried to keep his tone civil, but something about you kept him on edge. “You know how to play chess. You’re a passable strategist. So why is shogi so hard for you? What makes shogi enjoyable is the pursuit of victory against a tough opponent, but even more than that, being able to predict their movements and win anyways. You have to know the game. Right now, you’re spacing. Is something wrong? What the hell is going on? God, what a drag…”

“Sorry,” is all you said. Shikamaru glanced directly at you, eyebrows furrowed.

“You don’t have anything to apologize for,” he argued, “I’m not angry at you. I’m just asking for an explanation.”

“It’s stupid. And it’s hard to talk about.” You run a hand through your hair and exhale so heavily. Shikamaru tries to ignore the painfully happy twinge in his chest; for some stupid reason his brain really likes it when you do that. “And it’s even fucking stupider how hard it is to talk about.”

He tilted his head slightly. “Do you feel like trying?” At this point, getting you to open up has an added advantage besides getting to know you more: a diversion from a shitty shogi game. 

“You know what? I’ll just come out and say it. I like you, Shikamaru.” For once, you look calm. You look collected, you don’t look nervous. It’s… a stark departure from your usual demeanor, but not altogether unwanted. “You stick up for other people. You’re a strategic genius. You’re loyal, you’re whip smart, and you have good taste in friends. The one thing I know you like to do that’s not just taking a nap or watching the clouds is shogi, and even though I’m total shit at it, it’s still being able to spend time with you. So because I know that I’m not really on your level in most ways, it’s just… nice to pretend I have a chance of even being your friend.”

Shikamaru just stares at you, until your nerves come back and you look up at the ceiling, fingers gripping the planks of wood that made up the porch. It’s obvious you’re on the verge of tears, and it’s even more heart-wrenching that you’re trying so damn hard not to let him see. And he’s only exacerbating the situation by remaining silent. But what would he say? How… how would he even go about approaching an answer? Words failed him, for the first time in a long while. He can’t stand to see you like this, constantly doubting yourself, paranoid about every possible thing that can go wrong, so he shuts his eyes and lets his hands fall into the habitual position between his legs, forming a circle. It’s hard to attack this dilemma like a game of shogi, but not impossible. Still, he needs to think fast—if he makes a girl cry… God, what a drag… 

When he opens his eyes again, confident in his reply, you’re gazing at the ground relentlessly, managing to hold back most of the tears. “(Y/n),” he says, and you look up slowly through half-lidded eyes. “Shut up.” Your eyes started to water again, and in the blink of an eye you backed up, about to make a run for it.

As soon as you stood up, he exhaled and knew exactly what to do. You twitched, frozen in place. “Please don’t make me sit through this, Shikamaru.” You staggered back into your initial position. “Please. I’m—I’m sorry. That was… pretend it didn’t happen.” Your volume drops to less than a whisper. “Please…”

He hurriedly continued. “You’re not stupid, you just struggle academically. There’s a difference. And we _are_ friends, but more important than that, we’re both shinobi of the Leaf Village. We’re comrades. I… I like you, too. You are really bad at shogi… Sorry I made it sound like… shit, I—”

“Yeah, I figured,” your voice cracked as you raised an eyebrow with a grin, still cautious. “Don’t play me like that, asshole.”

“But it was stupid of you to think that’s the only thing I like to do.” Shikamaru shuts his eyes with a sigh, but there’s a small smile on his face when he says it. “Do you want to watch the clouds with me sometime? It’s not even close to a strategy game.”

Eyes wide, you dragged your palm down your face. The small smile only grew. “Shit, you’re right, that was stupid. Man, I can’t think straight around you, I guess.”

The way you said it made it seem like a simple statement, but the emotional implications of what you said weighed in the air for a moment. “Y—yeah, let’s just—let’s just watch the clouds now, alright?” He blurts it out like it hurts to talk slowly, his skin overheating.

Shikamaru knew for sure that you were about to ask if he was blushing, that you were about to tease him, but right when he expected you to say it, you bit your lip and swallowed air. “Sure thing, kid genius,” you smile, and it makes everything feel slightly less troublesome.


	4. sasuke (nsfw) || "the worst"; ignorance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was inspired by the song "ignorance" by paramore. i really like this song, i think it slaps. anyways, um... i really don't like sasuke. i think he's an edgelord and shikamaru was a far better friend to naruto than he was. 
> 
> ...but i still wanted to write this, so uhhhhhhh get ready for some hate-fucking! it gets a little angsty, but i'm not going to label anything i write as angst because i dont have the ability to tell if anything i write is good enough to make someone cry lmao
> 
> anyways, hope you're having a nice day and staying hydrated! thank you! love, moose <3

“God, you’re the worst.”

Ino and Sakura foaming at the mouth, Sasuke ignored the offhand comment, expecting it to be Naruto, but then the voice registered. It was a girl. A girl… hated him. He didn’t care. Obviously he didn’t care, why should he? It was just that… every other girl thought he was flawless, and there you were, in your… _clothes_ with your stupid… _face,_ just taunting him relentlessly… He turned around to see who you were, and—oh. He… didn’t know you very well, but you were acquaintances. Regardless… Sasuke narrowed his eyes. “Excuse me?”

“Oh. Hey, Sasuke, I said you’re the _worst.”_ Something about you was so… he needed to beat the shit out of you. “What, are you surprised that _someone_ isn’t completely up your ass? Do you think everyone gives a shit about you?”

Sasuke honed his gaze onto you. “Stay out of my way or you’re dead.”

“You gonna go through with that?” It seemed like that was an empty threat to you, but at the moment, Sasuke wholeheartedly meant it. “Prove it.”

“Fine.” The last of the Uchiha clan stood up, pointing at you with deadened eyes. “See you after class. You know where.” He didn’t know where. “I’m going to _murder_ you.”

You just chose to follow him out to the clearing. It was a beautiful day, and it seemed like he’d stopped, at least for now. Walking out from behind a tree, you cleared your throat. The Leaf shinobi with raven hair swiveled around, kunai at the ready. “Chill out, Sasuke. I need to establish some ground rules.”

“Like what?” His steady gaze doesn’t leave you, no matter how you fidgeted. “Whatever it is, I’ll still win. No matter what.”

“Only taijutsu. No jutsus, no genjutsu.” You cross your arms, kunai tucked into your armpit. “I can’t stop you from using your sharingan, but it’s not like you’ll need it. Just _mano a mano_ , hand to hand combat. If I beat you, you admit you’re the worst. If you beat me—”

“Say it first, then I’ll see if I can agree,” Sasuke interjected. 

You raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t really have anything in mind.”

“Didn’t expect it to happen?”

“Alright, can it, Uchiha.” You flick your kunai into the dirt to emphasize your remark. “I’m not saying I actually think I have a chance or anything. I’m not stupid. Well… well, you decide, then.”

“I’ll leave it up for grabs,” said the dark-haired man a couple of meters in front of you. “‘Cause I’m gonna win.” Something about the way he stared at you was off-putting, and you couldn’t tell if it was because of the fact that he could activate his sharingan at any moment. Maybe it was the idea of being subservient to this douche, but whatever it was, you didn’t like it. You honored your word, you kept your promises. So if it was what he wanted, and he won, you would honor that, no matter what it was. You just wished he would stop looking at you like that. It was obvious he didn’t have any reservations about hitting a girl, but he didn’t need to grin like that.

“Alright,” you shrug with a feigned smile, “I’ll bite.” You hurl yourself at him, sandals hitting the ground like fish on a dock. He blocks your fist, but that wasn’t your objective. His forearm blocked your actual intended hit, and he held you like a limp puppet, strings cut. Shit… he was above your level, you weren’t denying that, but to say that out loud was social suicide. Not to mention you didn’t mention wanting to fight, you just said he was the worst… In your scrambled haze, Sasuke lodged his foot next to your ribs and kicked _hard._ No remorse. You choked, taking a few steps backwards.

He chuckled lowly, wiping the sweat from his cheek. You staggered somewhat, refusing to let him see it; he really hadn’t kicked you very hard, it just caught you off guard. “When will you just give in and admit that I’m stronger than you?”

“Never,” you growled, staring into those hateful eyes, dark like pitch, gripping his collar and pulling him close. If you had time to panic over the way his eyes went crazy dilated the closer you brought him, wide like he secretly wanted you this close, frenzied like he needed you to take control—but take it from an expert: you didn’t. Moving too fast for him to telegraph your movements, you socked him square in the jaw with a sickening crunch. “You think you’re all that,” you hissed, moving him around by his collar like some kind of ragdoll puppet, “you think you’re an avenger, you think you’re the greatest. You don’t give a damn about the rest of this village! You live in the past instead of moving forward. You’re the _worst_ and even Naruto has a better spirit than you.” He slowly looked back up at you, wiping his chin before advancing again.

Sasuke grinned and shoved you against the tree trunk, lifting your already spread legs up to his torso. “So you think I’m the worst, huh?” Releasing his collar, you dug your nails into the skin of his back, under the cloth of his shirt, dragging, hoping it left a mark. “You hate me, do you? Do you fucking hate me?” He spoke so close to the skin by your ear, so lowly, hot breath traveling down the back of your shirt like nervous sweat, sending surges of adrenaline rippling through your spine. “Say it. Say you hate me. Tell me I’m the _worst._ ” His fingertips slid up your sides, massaging and squeezing you with the inexperience and brute force of tenderizing meat. Sasuke bit down gently on your ear, pulling at it, before letting go. “Tell me I’m the worst you’ve ever known.”

“All that and more,” you mumbled spitefully, and he kissed you hard, mouth open, hands pulling you closer to him by pressing against your lower back. You shed your jacket like water off a duck’s back and gripped his jaw as you kissed back, running your fingers through his hair again. Straddling him, you pushed your hips into his, already hard and amassing heat. What part of all that turned him on…? Was he just—this _whole_ time—? Sasuke separated briefly to pull his shirt over his head and tear off his arm warmers, incidentally rubbing his pelvis against yours, eliciting a groan on your part. He grinned into the kiss, pushing up your top to feel your stomach. 

“You like that? Guess I’m not the worst at something.” His black hair ridiculously soft to the touch, the locks tickled your neck as he dragged his tongue across your collarbone and the crook of your shoulder. “Do you know what’s it’s like to be alone after having a family? The kind of loss I’ve endured, how much it takes to keep going?” You guided his hand under your shirt to your chest. “You have no clue why I am the way I am.” Pulling off your tight top, you clamped your hands down on his shoulders, staring into those pitch dark eyes yet again, moving your grip from his shoulders to the place where they met his neck.

He tried to kiss you again, but you turned your head. “You still take it out on other people. It’s immature. You’re immature. You don’t seek help, you’re trying to be stronger just to bring down someone else. In doing so, you’re pushing everyone away. It’s stupid. You’re stupid.” Your digits brushed against his lower abdomen, mildly ripped from training without reprieve, on their way to palm his junk. “You’re still the worst,” you whisper as he bites his lip to suppress a surprised whine of pleasure, “and I still fucking hate you.” Your thighs slip out of his grasp to a standing position, and he fumbled with the fly of your pants, trying to get them off. Sasuke slips out of his shorts no problem, and you step out in panties nearly dripping from arousal.

“God, th—that’s what I needed to hear,” Sasuke panted, voice faltered as soon as you start to thumb the head of his dick through his underwear, “d—don’t fucking tease m—me, (Y/n), I might just lose control…” He probably didn’t mean that, right? It’d be fine. You got closer, slipping your fingers into his boxer briefs. 

Him being helpless to you, putty in your hands, was like catnip. Your smaller fingers held his shaft, the side of your thumb rubbing up and down the veins of his dick, pinky and ring fingers grazing his balls. As much as you despised him for the fact that most of his motivation was just to bring down others to take revenge on his older brother, you had to admit that it was kind of empowering to have this sort of draw over him, to silence the Uchiha at your beck and call. Well, not to silence—the groans he had been repressing were quiet in nature, he never was one to shriek like the rest of his team, but those moans were something else. “Lose control of what,” you kept direct eye contact with Sasuke as the black of his eyes flashed red, swirls of ebony appearing like pitch-dark shark fins resurfacing in a sea of claret, forming a ring around his pupils, “Uchiha? What’re you gonna do, make a few hand signs?”

The last of the Uchiha clan shuddered and slammed you to the ground, hair splayed out around you in a halo. “I warned you,” he grinned darkly, his erection pressing directly against where your warmth emanated. All you could see was the ninja on top of you, eyes dark red and black, caging you as he pinioned your arms above your head. The urge to grab him by his scalp rippled through you, but you basically couldn’t move. And against your better judgment, you… really didn’t mind, it was kind of hot. His fingers through your hair in the soft grass, he pulls at your scalp, pressing his lips to your overheated skin. He, uh… he tastes like mouth, pretty much. You groaned into the kiss, bending your knees as you spread your legs further apart. “You’re like a dog in heat…” His growl sent shivers down your spine, however cliché you would have found it out of context. “Do I give you conniptions, do you hate me? Hate me. Say you hate me. You hate me and you want me, you hate me _but_ you want me. You’re squirming under me because you need me inside of you, but you can’t bring yourself to admit it. I’ll make you admit it. You want me. Say it, you coward. Say it.”

“Y—yeah, ngh,” he stroked your clit through your panties, and at this point, chagrin was a thing of the past. “I wa—I w… I _need…_ ngh...” The sounds leaving your lips were nothing short of mortifying, but as gradually as water evaporated, the pleasure overtook the embarrassment. “I need you, Sasuke… god, you’re the worst…”

“You want me, yeah? You want the last of the Uchiha clan,” Sasuke growls into your ear. His deft fingers pull down the cloth of your underwear, the head of his shaft slick in some places from sweat and pre-cum as it slides up your stomach. He lets go of your arms to reach under your back and unclasp your bra, massaging the undersides of your chest with cold digits, rolling your nipple between his index and thumb. Hands now free, you trace the lines of his happy trail with aroused fervor, the haze of his scent overpowering; he was clean, like lavender with lingering notes of ash and wood. It was such a far cry from the rest of the men in the village, your other failed attempts at platonic intimacy or romance drawing you close but not as close as you preferred. He’s still staring at you, staring into you, through you, and how you must look so vacant, so conflicted, so powerless under him. “You want me, inside of you. It must burn, to know you hate me but you want me more than anything, now that I’m a man. You want the seed of the Uchiha clan, to repopulate my family… the ultimate reversal of Itachi… You hate me, but now you _have_ to take my past seriously. Now you _have_ to help me, you’re going to save the clan… Preserve the doju kekkei genkai… relinquishing the sharingan to our progeny…”

“Um…” His head grazed your entrance, halted only by his heavy breathing and mild overstimulation, like a marathon runner pausing to wheeze. You swallowed, looking into the soul of the unfiltered shinobi on top of you. “Pardon, but you want me to _what…?”_

Sasuke froze, letting his head droop down to the grass next to your head, opposite of where his forearm caged you. His hair fell to cover his eyes, bearing a striking resemblance to the feathers of a raven. “I… don’t know.” You continued to stroke him, not quite sure what was going on, but you had an itch you needed to scratch. “I said that in the… heat of the moment. It… uh… Let’s pretend I didn’t say that.”

“I… okay. God, you’re the worst,” you rolled your eyes, guiding his hands to pull down your panties. As soon as you said that, he groaned, louder than before, and entered your core. You let out a moan, completely unrestrained, and you wrap your legs around his back, letting him hit even further, eliciting a cry from both of you. “S—so that’s what gets you… gets you going again,” you exhaled between words, “you fucking pervert, ha… You only go for the girl that hates you… I don’t know if it’s some self-esteem thing, but… ah, ah— _ah—_ ”

A quiet laugh, and then Sasuke starts to cup your face, still slamming into you. “Call me out all you like, but I’m the one about to make you cum, right? That’s it?” He pressed the heel of his palm against your chest, your heart racing. “Right, kitten.” _Kitten._ A _pet name._ This was going too far, but you couldn’t stop, you couldn’t leave now, you _needed_ him to keep going… “It’s from me. _Me_. Sasuke _Uchiha._ And I fucking hope you hate me for it.”

You climaxed with a string of curses and unintelligible noises, matching the guttural sound of Sasuke reacting to the way your pussy clenched. In the afterglow haze, you slumped, letting him fuck you as your legs dropped off his frame, as he held them back up by gripping your right thigh for better access to your entrance. Sasuke let out something close to a whimper, reaching for his shirt—you weren’t going to question it at this point—in a gesture that made the both of you groan, your walls squeezing around him, and he whined with wild abandon, before pulling out of you and ejaculating on his own shirt, inside out. A ragged gasp left your esophagus, and Sasuke dropped on you like a now flaccid dead fish.

“You’re a sad, sad little man, Sasuke,” you murmur with a weak chuckle. “There’s dozens of girls who think they actually like you. This is just… sad. Sad, and hateful, and… and exclusive. You should have had your first time with one of them. Pretend you can get it up without her hating your fucking guts. I’d say Sakura, because she annoys me the least, but really, you’ve got your pick of the litter. Not how I’d organize it, but hey, I don’t make the rules.”

“So you care.” The dark-haired man gets off of you, turning his shirt right side out. “You care about other people.” You stood, slipping your panties back on, and re-clasping your bra. “You’d… be a good mother, thinking of other people getting hurt even when it benefits you.” He doesn’t deny your assertion that you took his virginity, but using that as evidence for a claim is circumstantial at best and chimerical at worst, so… you ignore it. It was your first time, too. You don’t really blame him for associating your… _session_ with his family. After all, his clan was his everything, so it makes logical sense for that to bleed into his general politics. It was naive and somewhat oblivious, but it made sense for him to think that way. “You’re for the most part selfless. If… if this does happen again, you would probably…” He struggled to find the words, but you understood the gist of what he meant.

Pants and top on, you’re fully clothed when he stands up and puts his arm warmers back on. “You don’t know _anything_ about what it takes to be a mother, Sasuke. The post-orgasmic enzymes or whatever in your head are fucking with your brain chemistry and… and making you say things you don’t mean. Pick someone who doesn’t hate you, so when you knock them up and leave to pursue whatever you think is going to make you stronger…” There was a lump in your throat, but more so one of empathy than self-pity. “...she can finally break the cycle of hatred. Whatever you do, don’t… don’t catch feelings for _me._ ”

“Thanks, (Y/n),” he nods, swallowing thickly. “I’ll… keep it in mind.”

“Oh, and I’m not—” You turned around and rolled your eyes, plastering on a rather forced grin, obviously uncomfortable, rubbing your elbow. “I’m not trying to flatter myself, I just figured you wouldn’t walk around with your own cum on the inside of your shirt for no reason.” The shinobi flushed in realization, searching blindly on his own back for stains. “And, uh, thanks, man. For reeling in your... fucked up, trauma-induced breeding kink. See you around, Sasuke.”

“See you when I see you.” He smiles a little. “I guess you won.”

When you walk away, you can’t shake the feeling that nothing had changed in the slightest.


	5. kakashi || "a fistful of scarecrows"; where did the party go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kakashi is the love of my goddamn life... i may have a kind of boyfriend (unverified) but until he responds to my texts, i am so whipped for the copy ninja. like i s2g you don't even KNOW, whenever i see him on screen i just lose it. kakashi is the hottest man alive and he doesn't even exist and i am so pissed about it. i'm not sure if i'm going to continue this, so i left it on a cliffhanger, but if you think i should, please tell me!
> 
> this chapter was inspired by "where did the party go" by fall out boy, and when i couldn't think straight after hearing it so many times, i switched to "death valley" by fall out boy. both excellent songs imo. the title of the chapter is a reference to the community episode "a fistful of paintballs", which is a riff on some famous spaghetti western, but idk what it is. i think it might be "a fistful of dollars?" but whatever. i titled it that way so if i make a second part, i can call it "for a few scarecrows more".
> 
> god i just love writing fic so much. it's like i constantly have this terrifically horny story inside me, and watching anime forces me to ralph it up into a google doc.
> 
> i feel so amazing about this one shot, it's absolutely insane
> 
> snatch you later, kemosabe
> 
> i need more sleep
> 
> hope you like it! love, moose <3

He leaned against your door like he had a right to a specific answer. “Aw, why not?”

“I’m—Christ, Kakashi, I’m not a jounin. You know that,” you rubbed your elbow, a nervous tic you picked up over the years. Maybe from a friend, probably from a book or something like that. Being around him was a constant battle, and if you went out with him and a few friends, especially when there’s alcohol involved, you would just—things would go south pretty damn fast. You just wanted to be good friends with your neighbor and ignore your urges. If he wasn’t so ridiculously skilled at reading your expressions, you could have lied about being a former alcoholic or something… “So why should I go? It’s for the jounin captains of the genin teams. It’s simple. Why _should_ I go?”

“You’ll be my plus one. My coworkers want to meet you. It’ll be fine.” The copy ninja crossed his arms against his broad chest, arms that were probably burgeoning with muscle… You shook your head internally. No, you couldn’t afford to think about that. “It’s not like anyone’ll be upset that you’re not a jounin. Nothing serious is happening. Come on…”

“Why are you so persistent about this?” The way he was pleading wasn’t typical of the jounin. It wasn’t like you were an expert on his behavior, especially considering his unpredictability—even his decade-long rival couldn’t accurately gauge his actions—but it just felt… weird. It felt slightly to the left of normal, whatever that meant. “Did you tell them I was going to come, or something like that? Besides, I’d have to change, and… I don’t want to do that. Plus, I have plans!” You seized an excuse at the last minute and clung to it. “I have plans tonight, so I can’t go and meet your work friends. Right, I forgot, but I do have plans!”

Kakashi sighed, adjusting his Leaf Village headband to cover his sharingan eye. “(Y/n), unless your plans include doing something besides masturbating alone in your room—which, let’s face it, that’s what it always comes down to—I don’t think you get to use that excuse tonight.”

Feigning ignorance, you narrowed your eyes, pretending to be lost in thought. “Hmm… well, I… uh…” The copy ninja rolled the one eye you could see, and you let the house of cards collapse. “Fine. You saw right through me. I’m such a con artist for wanting my occasionally loud time alone with me and my fingers. Wow, sue me.”

“Yeah, that’s kind of what I thought.” Your neighbor adjusted his stance against your doorframe. “Do I need to persuade you any further?” A silver eyebrow raised, and even though you couldn’t see most of his face, that was enough to make you agree with almost anything he asked of you. Damned pretty boy types, always knew exactly which buttons to push to get the right result… Mortifying, as always.

“Look, I…” You struggled for the words, settling for jabbing your index finger in the center of his clavicle, clothed by a dark turtleneck. You couldn’t accurately read his facial expressions, but you were making an executive decision in declaring him amused. “Fine. You got me. Give me five minutes and I’ll be ready.” The two of you were silent and still for a few seconds, before you rolled your eyes and invited him in. “Come inside, else you’ll freeze to death.”

Aggravated, you slipped into a rather tight-fitting strapless dress you’d been saving for an occasion not unlike this one, although your express thoughts upon buying it had been more along the lines of what you would wear to get _over_ the copy ninja, not what you would wear in front of him. But whatever—it was a special occasion. You were a grown woman. You didn’t have time to be insecure about your body, you were going to meet some friends of a friend. It would be fine. It’s going to be fine, you told yourself in the mirror, having styled your hair in a record time of about three minutes, makeup in two. Choosing your most practical stilettos—quite the oxymoron—you slipped them on and grabbed a small purse, shoving your wallet in there.

“Come on, let’s just go,” you muttered, a little frustrated at your situation, staring at the ground. Apparently you were suffering from auditory hallucinations, because you thought you heard the copy ninja inhale sharply as you walked in, but that couldn’t happen. _He_ was the one driving you insane, vice versa was impossible and that was a fact, because if you had a chance with him, you would never forgive yourself for the mental gymnastics it took to torture yourself like this. Besides, these shoes were hard to walk in… You just needed to get this over with successfully. Make a good impression with his friends, zero ulterior motives. Just… have a nice night. “I’m gonna assume you’re already late, so we should try and hurry there, right?”

Making a beeline for the door, where you kept your jackets, Kakashi stopped you before you could quite get there. It was embarrassing specifically because all he had to do was touch your arm and you were frozen on the spot like a statue, but you pushed it down. You tilted your head, one eyebrow raised, opening your mouth, but he gave you one of his trademark closed-eye smiles, placing a semi-gloved hand on your far smaller shoulder. “You look absolutely stunning,” he said, quick enough for it to be plausible that you merely imagined him saying it. “And you don’t need a coat.”

Feeling your entire face heat up, your first instinct was to stare at the ground and stalk away, but the copy ninja offered you his hand. “Th—thanks, Kakashi…” What was happening? Was this a strange fever dream? You took it, albeit hesitantly, and moved to open the door, but he held it open for you, waiting for you to lock the door. No, this couldn’t be reality. You hovered in front of the lock, heart racing. What the hell was going on? 

“What happened to hurrying?” The silver-haired ninja teased, snapping you out of your haze. You jiggled the key in its lock, yanking it out once you finished. He offered you his hand again. God, this was too weird… But you still took it. It really was just like you had imagined. He had the kind of fingers that feel nice to hold, especially since your hand was notably smaller than his… Whatever it was, you were going to enjoy it. You fell into step with the copy ninja, who seemed to know where he was going well enough. “I think you’re going to like them. They’re good people.”

“I’d hope so,” you maintained a monotone, despite being incapable of doing anything but smiling like a lovesick fool when he held your hand. Normally you would analyze this situation, see if it was actually some kind of prank or trap set by someone merely _posing_ as Kakashi, but right now you were far too flustered to think straight, rendering any half-hearted conspiracies invalid. “Can you tell me more about them? You’ve probably mentioned them in passing, but I don’t know who exactly is going to be there.”

“Well, there’s Asuma, Kurenai,” Kakashi counted on his fingers, “Iruka, and Gai. Tsunade was a maybe, so she’s probably not going to make it. I think that should be it. Some of them might invite their students, but maybe not. It’s not a very planned affair, if you can believe it.”

“Again, why am I going? Why not invite Naruto or Sasuke? Or, hell, all three of them, even,” you postulated, gently swinging your fingers, intertwined with his. “Honestly, I thought you might have been avoiding me for a while. And out of nowhere, you show up at my door and ask me to come to this dinner. I mean, if it’s your personal business, you don’t have to tell me, but I’m not going to pretend like I’m _not_ curious.”

“I told you. I just thought it would be fun.” Kakashi turned to face you. “You really don’t get out much, it should be good for you. And I get out too much, it’s a nice break. Not to mention, they all want to meet you.” That drew your attention. If he was presenting this situation as it actually was, how come they even knew who you were? None of them should even know your name, unless… Your eyes widened. Wait, then… Wait… maybe...

“Wait, Kakashi,” the corners of your lips curved upwards, your tone transitioning to a more teasing one, “why do they all want to meet me? Do you talk about me a lot?” Before you could let your stupid inner self—the one with all the disgusting irrepressible emotions—get excited at the prospect of your neighbor thinking about you often, a cool breeze swept over the two of you. You shivered, regretting your choice not to bring a jacket. Of course Kakashi would say you didn’t need one. He constantly wore at least one turtleneck and a vest, he’d be fine.

“That’s irrelevant,” your neighbor withheld, revealing frustratingly little through his even tone. “Oh, hey, looks like we’re here.” The sign flashed in pale golden yellow lights, several lanterns lining the fencing of the outdoor tables where a handful of jounin in the signature green vests adorned with red swirls waved at Kakashi. “By the way, (Y/n),” you turned at the sound of your name and he was giving you another one of those closed-eye smiles, your heart starting to melt, “I told my coworkers that we’re dating, so if you could act accordingly, that would be great.”

Nearly keeling over on the spot, you could barely hiss out an “Excuse me, _what,”_ before the copy ninja led you up the stairs to where the group was sitting. It did make sense, though; everything was coming together, albeit in a terrible, falsified way. It was stupid and naive of you to think that he actually liked you, but now you were stuck for God knows how long, pretending to be a part of what you considered your current ultimate romantic desire. You waved hello to the group of jounin, moving to sit down next to the man with a shiny, ebony black bowl cut who was grinning in a way that kind of put you off guard, but Kakashi sat down there first, keeping a distance between you and that particular man.

“Hey, guys,” you heard your neighbor greet his coworkers warmly, “how’s it going?”

“Late as always,” remarked the man with a beard and a cigarette dangling out of his mouth. His arm hung loosely behind the beautiful woman on his left, more so touching the seat than her shoulders. She was stunning, with vibrant red eyes and raven curls, with a dress that appeared made out of… you had no idea, but she made bandages look sharp. “What’s your excuse now?” The man made eye contact with you, nodding slightly and extending the hand that wasn’t resting near his significant other. “You must be (Y/n), right? Lovelier in person. I’m Asuma.”

 _Lovelier in person?_ You smiled and returned the firm handshake, wondering what the hell that meant. You knew what it meant, but you needed further explanation. Was he really implying that Kakashi described you as… _lovely_ behind your back? And his wife, girlfriend, partner, whatever: she seemed fine with it. Your head swam. “Nice to meet you,” you retreated back to your seat, nearly jumping out of your skin when Kakashi wrapped his right arm around your neck and shoulders, his fingers resting on your upper bicep, just barely grazing your cleavage. The slight cold of the night made the warmth emanating from his torso almost irresistible. As subtly as you could manage, you settled into his side, leaning your head against where his clavicle would be. That is, if you could see it. Asuma smiled in return. His spouse—you realized they were both wearing matching rings—extended her hand as well, which you briefly left Kakashi’s embrace to shake.

“Kurenai,” she spoke smoothly, and you nodded at her. “Kakashi spoke very highly of you. I have to agree with Asuma.” Okay, so two people out of a table full of nines were telling you politely that they thought you were hot. Could you handle this? Probably not; your ego was inevitably inflating by the second, your smile flickering. You hoped to whatever higher power existed that your discomfort didn’t show in your tone nor in your voice.

“I’m flattered,” you chose your words carefully, sinking back into Kakashi’s larger frame. You still couldn’t really believe this was happening, but Kakashi pretending you were his girlfriend was infinitely more plausible than two strangers thinking you were attractive. Startling you out of your reverie, the man with the dark bowl cut winked at you. You could feel all of the blood drain out of your face, until you saw a man with a spiky ponytail and a mostly healed scar across his nose and under his eyes. “Oh, you must be Iruka. Naruto told me about you.”

The copy ninja turned his head. “Wait, you’ve spoken with Naruto?”

“Yeah,” you looked up at him, noticing just how painfully close the two of you were when you did that. Oh, shit. A couple would be comfortable like that… right…? “Remember that week your team tried to figure out what you looked like without a mask?” Your neighbor winced. You took that as a yes. “Naruto tried to break into my apartment to spy on you.” Iruka looked about five seconds away from passing out. Your eyes widened, trying to placate him, “D—don’t worry! He was really bad at it. I have exceptionally strong windows. I did my landlord a favor before I moved in. Um,” you realized you were rambling and tried to stop. Kurenai beamed at the two of you. You had no idea why, and it was kind of terrifying.

“I seriously feel like I should have noticed that,” your neighbor murmured, his words reverberating through his chest. “He’s… tough to deal with, occasionally.”

“The two of you are adorable,” she grinned ear to ear. Asuma had the faintest smile on his face to match hers. “I never expected you to actually get serious with someone. Good job, she’s cute.” Kakashi offered another one of his closed-eye smiles, his large hand firmly holding on to the right side of your shoulder as you scratched the back of your neck. This was intense… how could you deflect compliments all night long? Especially from someone whose tone sounded so sincere… This was going to prove extremely difficult. Kurenai opened her mouth again and you wished some higher power would give you the answer as to how you could possibly keep this up. “How long have you been dating?” 

_Thank God for Kakashi,_ you silently wailed as your faux boyfriend took the question, finger tapping his chin. “Well… we’ve been neighbors for years, and we started to hang out frequently about a year ago, but when we actually _realized_ we were dating…?” He feigned forgetfulness. “(Y/n), it’s, ah… we’ve been about five months, right?”

Counting nonsense on your fingers and mouthing the names of months to yourself, you nodded slowly. “Yeah, five months sounds about right.” You fiddled with the bandages on Kakashi’s inner thigh absentmindedly, not realizing how he tensed behind you.

Kurenai’s endearing yet incessant cooing over the two of you made way for the naturally booming voice of the strange man with the bowl cut, who was now yelling as he pointed at you. “I’m Gai. (Y/n), in accessing carnal knowledge of my greatest rival, you are by proxy… some form of rival! I haven’t quite figured it out yet, but watch out, Kakashi!” Gai stared at Kakashi, who seemed furtively more preoccupied with your smaller fingers darting across his inner thigh. “Kakashi?”

“Hmm?” Your neighbor jolted. “What were you saying?”

“Never mind,” sighed Gai, draining his small cup of sake.

Walking down the steps hand in hand, Kakashi’s jounin vest draped over your shoulders, you waved goodbye to the other couple and jounin. “That was more fun than I expected,” you confessed with a relaxed smile. The copy ninja took your arm and swung it across your front clockwise, lodging his own hand on your waist. “Your friends are actually kind of cool.”

“Coworkers, but you’re not wrong.” For the first time, you were close enough to really see the smile on his face, behind the mask. You watched the fabric move a little. It was pretty cute. “I’m sorry I sprung that on you so last minute. You seem like you’re a better actor in situations where you don’t have time to prepare and you have to think on your feet.”

“Yeah, well, improv classes do that to you,” you exhaled. “Seriously, though, Kakashi, um… don’t play me like that.” You try to avoid meeting his gaze. If he doesn’t hear what you say, you’re not sure if you’re awake enough to repeat it. “You know a lot more about me than I’d prefer, and… and it fucking hurts, pretending to be intimate with someone else… You might assume things, because you said earlier that you can hear what I do when I’m alone, but I genuinely just… and I just—it’s late.” 

“Right,” he nodded along, but you had a feeling he wasn’t quite sure what you meant.

“Seriously, why did you tell your coworkers we were dating?” You desperately didn’t want to look at his expression for this conversation. “Did they, like… pressure you into getting a girlfriend, so you blanked? Because you could have just been honest. I’m sure they would’ve been fine with it. I really don’t know what your logic was, or why you put me through that…” He tensed next to you. “No offense, man, I’m just… a stupid piece of shit when it comes to intimacy. So what happens if I become friends with any of them? I can’t be honest? I can’t pursue anyone else? I’m—I’m just rambling, I’m sorry. I can’t stop.”

“It’s okay.” He adjusted his grip on your waist. “I stuck you in that situation with no warning, which I shouldn’t have done. You’re not at fault here. Thank you for telling me that you were uncomfortable with that.”

You gently pry his hand off of your hip, turning to face him. You just wanted to take those last few steps and walk inside your apartment and cry, hard, but you had to tell him first. “It’s late. I can’t say this how I want to.” You turn to lean against the door frame, already starting to tear up. “Good night, Kakashi. Thanks for the night out.”

“(Y/n), wait.” Kakashi’s tone is reassuring, placating. Convincing, even… maybe even provocative. “Do you want to stay over?” You’re almost sure you know what he means, but it’s so far from possible that it barely even reaches your ears. “You’re free to say no.”

That’s the last straw, you think. The tears dripping down your face cloud your vision, and you sniffle, trying to breathe. Kakashi gets close, he turns you around, and then all of a sudden he’s embracing you, his arms reaching up to your back, enveloping you in warmth. It’s exactly what you needed and why you felt so awful in the first place, scrambling your moral compass.

“Hey, come on, princess,” he sounds so gentle, “let’s get you inside. It’s cold out.”

Head in your hands, you tried to hide yourself as much as you could, sitting on his couch, shoes kicked off to the side. His jounin vest discarded somewhere, Kakashi rubbed around your shoulder blades, clearly out of his element, but still trying his best. Even though you were sobbing because of him, his touch was far more comforting than you would ever admit. You wiped your eyes and sat up straight with the smallest inhale. “I… can I take a shower?”

“Y… yeah, sure,” he removes his palm from your back. “Do you know where it is…?”

Kakashi leaned back against his couch, exhaling deeply. The test drive wasn’t successful, then. Well, it served his purpose; it confirmed how _he_ felt, but he fucked it up with you. God, what was he thinking? Of course you didn’t feel the same way. You just acted along because you were a good friend. You came in clutch because you had his back. And then it hit him: you hadn’t brought a change of clothes. You wore that amazing dress, and now you were taking a shower, with nothing to change into.

The copy ninja rummaged through his drawers, extracting some shorts and one of his plain white shirts—wait, um… He tried to will away the rush of blood to his cheeks. What could you use as underwear? He wasn’t going to make you wear the same panties two days in a row… but he… did not have women’s panties… Kakashi studied the cloth in his hands, feeling the burning sensation return to his face unbidden. Maybe you could use some of… _his_ underwear? Despite his reputation as—well, you referred to it as a “pussy magnet”, but that was rather crude for his tastes. He wouldn’t really have trouble getting a date, but he still didn’t have much experience with the awkward situations. This was like something out of Icha Icha… but you weren’t just a love interest, he had stakes here. 

He heard the water stop, and you stepped out, no doubt wrapped in one of his towels. Knees rapidly starting to shake, he tried to dispel the thoughts of you from his head, but to little avail. Beginning to understand the sort of desperation that fueled your solitary exploits (read: _loudly_ fingering yourself in the middle of the night), Kakashi lets his head fall back against the cushions, cursing himself as the blood dripped down from his nose. Shit, now that he _really_ knew he liked you… This was awful.

Hands trembling, you noticed the pile of clothes on the bed. _His_ clothes. Kakashi’s clothes… You were going to wear his clothes. Oh, God…

A knock on the door. “Are you decent?”

“Yeah, I guess?” You adjusted the towel, making sure it was more secure. “You can come in.” The copy ninja opened the door very slightly, only peeking his head in. “Kakashi. It’s your own bedroom. I’m wearing a towel. It’s fine.” He rolled his eyes, entering the room. 

“Are you okay? Feeling better, I mean.” A nod. Kakashi maintained eye contact. “That’s good… Anyway, I’ll sleep on the couch tonight, so if you need anything, I’ll be there. If you need to talk, I’m here, okay?”

“Kakashi, wh…” You shook your head. “Don’t be a dumbass. This is your bed. I’ll get dressed and then you can sleep here, too.” What were you _doing—?!_ His eye widened. Why the hell did you say that? You already had sleeping issues. What would this solve? You’d be a nervous wreck the whole time! “You only have this weekend, right?” A weak smile crossed your face. “Enjoy your time off, man.”

It looked like he smiled under the mask, but you could barely tell. He closed the door, turning away to give you some privacy as you swiped his shirt and shorts and swept into the bathroom. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” you mumbled, guiding his arm to rest on top of your frame under the sheets. Kakashi rested his chin on top of your head, and you started when you realized that his chin was bare. He was so warm, even warmer than before when you had rested against him. “Sorry I started crying and all that. I just felt kind of overwhelmed.”

“I haven’t been completely honest with you.” You could feel his words vibrating throughout his chest. “Tonight was kind of a dry run, to test how I felt. I really shouldn’t have used you like that, but it was sort of an experiment to see if I really did… feel that way for you. And I was right, but it still put you on the spot and I shouldn’t have done it. Plus, it was kind of stupid on my part, realizing my feelings when there’s no way you’ll return them.”

Feeling his heart beat like crazy against your shoulder blade, you knew he was waiting for you to say something in response. To confirm or deny that you felt the same way. To acknowledge his feelings and then pick one path or another. But you had to take the future into account. You had to understand the effect that a casual union and the inevitable split would have on your relationship as friends. You had to take into consideration the hours that Kakashi put into his work, you had to remember your job, your own responsibilities… you had no idea what he would be like in a real relationship as opposed to a test drive. 

Shutting your eyes, you knew the right answer.


	6. itachi || "date in a dream"; back to black

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok so this one shot was inspired by the song "back to black" by amy winehouse. i found it through glee (it's complicated; i watch glee in between episodes of naruto whenever i get upset at naruto for making a promise he can't keep so i can remind myself of how much better naruto is than glee), and the only good character in that show is santana and she sings it at some point. 
> 
> uh, also, if you couldn't tell, i've taken up whittling during quarantine. it makes a giantass mess but it's a little soothing. i actually cut my finger trying to whittle the chinese knife from far cry 3, and now i wear a thimble, so. if you couldn't tell from the fact that this is naruto reader insert fanfiction. im a fucking dorkass nerd. anyway this chapter COULD be classified as angst, but i didn't cry while writing it so i don't know. i don't KNOW. im still gonna add it to the tags just in case though
> 
> i think my next one might be rock lee because i just admire him so much. drunk lee is literally like a chaotic good version of jean ralphio from parks & rec. drunk lee is a powerhouse, he's a muppet in leg warmers. life is like rock lee: when you're wasted, you can do anything. don't quote me on that, i'm doing a bit, i don't endorse binge drinking, et cetera et cetera...
> 
> damn i miss itachi... and he isn't even fucking real. get a grip, moose
> 
> anyways i wasn't even trying to pad the word count with this one, it just kinda flew out of me. hope you enjoy it :> thank you for reading, stay hydrated!! love, moose <3

Numb was all it felt like. You didn’t recall ever crying over it, and it wasn’t like you could have a shred of hope that the traitor wasn’t alive. Attachment, while necessary for survival, was also most definitely gonna lead to your early end one of these days, if you didn’t do the job yourself.

You didn’t like to think you were one of the nutjobs who would sit and talk to a grave. It was very well possible you were already that far gone, and if you were, you were honestly just thankful you didn’t follow the career path of the shinobi. ‘Cause if push came to shove and you snapped once and for all, you weren’t in danger of doing anything to this village. A bit weak and altogether useless for combat. You’d just be shipped to a mental institution. Still, stonewalling was a part of the grieving process. At least, that was what you kept telling yourself.

In the puddles of the rain around you, you saw your own reflection and she looked hopeless. Not hopeless as in helpless, or hopeless as in beyond redemption. Hopeless as in all your hopes and dreams were gone, at least by the look of you. 

Somehow, this whole situation was a bit of a blessing. You remembered your emotional outbursts, your occasional fits of uncontrollable rage. That seems like a different person, now. Of course, it had been around five or six years, so you should be over all of this. But some corner of your psyche really didn’t want to give up the numbing feeling.

How could someone who was so kind to you do all of those terrible things? You supposed your subconscious stopped you from hating him because none of it added up. He was so loyal to the village and his clan, and then out of nowhere, he snaps and murders all but one of them. You knew very well about the curse of hatred, but that didn’t matter: why would he kill all of the rest? Itachi wasn’t a cold-blooded murderer. He wasn’t afraid of killing, sure; he was a part of the ANBU Black Ops, after all. But he wasn’t one to take part in senseless slaughter. It just didn’t make sense, like it was some stranger who had died and not him.

Of course, you weren’t sure if he was dead or not. To everyone else, it didn’t make a difference. He was there no longer, ergo he was dead to the village. A traitor. Excommunicado. Cut away, forever. You missed him. Oh, god, you missed him. And those dreams you kept having didn’t help at all.

After all, it was easy to forget someone, especially with your addled mind. But what brought you back to this stone wasn’t necessarily the names engraved on it, just what it represented.

_“Hey, leave her alone.”_

You squeezed your eyes shut, sitting down with your legs crossed. If you could just seal away all thoughts of him, it would be for the better, but…

_“No, I’m serious. What did she do to you to deserve this?”_

You tried to commit to memory every name on the stone, out of respect for those who had died during the attack of the nine-tailed fox, especially the fourth Hokage and his wife, but you were never the best with rote memorization. All you could remember were your sister, your mother, your father, and Iruka-sensei’s parents. 

_“There… are you alright?” The boy with the dark hair and mysterious yet kind eyes helped you to your feet. “I haven’t seen you in school… are you a kunoichi?” You shake your head. He has a grace to him; his gentleness is not out of weakness but out of how carefully he controls his strength. “Well, anyways, they should leave you alone from now on. Do you want to join me for lunch?”_

Standing up, you gripped your knife and headed out to a point where you not only knew you could cry in safety, but also where you knew you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself.

_“Hey, you’re pretty skilled at making bento,” he remarks after you offered him a bite. “You’ll make a good wife to someone someday, I can tell you put a lot of care into it.”_

Sitting in the grass of the meadow under a large tree, you took out the massive mason jar you carried on your person and set it aside, next to the bundles of cedar sticks in your bag. Opening your pocket knife, you start to carve up the twig, keeping the cold glass between your legs, slowly watching the shavings curl and cutting them off. 

_“You always keep the wood shavings when you whittle,” the shinobi next to you observed. You nodded, expecting him to ask you why, but Itachi just smiled and kept braiding the blades of grass in between his calloused fingers, larger than yours yet so careful, so… precise. “It’s so you can burn them, right?”_

_Eyebrows furrowed, you closed the mouth you hadn’t realized opened in shock. Everyone else always treated you like it was weird, or like it was stupid for you to do something so mundane in your spare time. But Itachi, your friend Itachi, Itachi Uchiha, the prodigy of his clan—the ninja who had entered ANBU at age eleven—guessed your hobby, first try. There seemed to be no judgment in his gaze or his tone. You set down your kunai knife. “Yeah. When I started whittling, large chunks of wood flew off like shrapnel. So I slowed down, and now it’s just these spirals.” You reached into the jar, which barely had a quarter of its size, and pulled out a few swirls of cedar wood, letting them sift out of your palm like sand._

_“And the cedar… you have that Eastern red cedar tree by your house, don’t you? It’s a beautiful species, and it smells amazing when it burns.” The stress lines on his face moved as the corners of his mouth turned upwards. “You’re an interesting one,” he says, his dark eyes tracking the movements of your fingers._

The jar was about three quarters full by now. 

_“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?!” Itachi let out one of those drawn-out, quiet laughs that came from his low voice, deeper than yours. “Don’t make fun of me,” you giggled, playfully swatting his shoulder. “I’m not a kunoichi or anything, so it’s not like I can have arson or chakra control as a hobby like you ninja.”_

_“Don’t worry,” he grins again, and it makes this part of your stomach turn when you can hear how the simplest smile affects his voice, “I’m not making fun of you. Hey, do you want a tip on technique?” You nod vigorously. God, were you a puppy around him. Itachi takes your kunai knife and gestures to where the blade meets the handle. “Kunai aren’t always the best for controlled whittling, you know. There’s no dull part for you to hold on to when you slice in the same direction as the grain of the wood.” The Uchiha sets it down on the ground, and slips a hand into his jacket pocket, retrieving a pocket knife. His digits hover over the girthy stick of cedar you had been chipping away at. “May I…?”_

_“Sure,” you let him take it, curious as to what the difference would be. Itachi cuts a beautiful spiral in the shape of the golden ratio, knife sliding through the cedar like butter. “Whoa,” you whisper under your breath without thinking, and he looks at you, his soft black eyes showing something besides the usual friendly glint you saw. “There’s such a difference…”_

_“This was a knife my father gave to me when I was younger, when my hands were smaller like yours. It works best with that size… so it should whittle even better when you use it!”_

Your vision was starting to blur, dark wet spots appearing on the cut surface of the wood.

_Itachi closes the pocket knife and places it in your palm, closing your fist around it and holding it with his larger hands. “Keep it.” Your eyes widen again, and it looks like it physically hurts him. “Think of it as a gift to remember me by.”_

Retrieving the whetstone and the flask of water from your bag as well, you sharpened the primary blade of your pocket knife, careful to keep your index finger pressed against the flat portion of the sharp side, with the crest of the Uchiha clan inscribed into the metal.

_A gift to remember him by…? Those sounded like famous last words. You furrow your eyebrows, but Itachi envelops you in a tight hug and you almost forget your own name. It’s so unlike him, so… personal and intimate. He smells like… well, you couldn’t pinpoint it, exactly, but it was even better than cedar logs in a fireplace. You liked being close to him, him holding you like this, and it only happened every so often, so you had to savor these small moments while they lasted. This one was just slightly different, though: he seemed like he didn’t want to let go of you, like his protective embrace was more than just beneficial on your part. You pressed your forehead into the crook of his neck, and wished more than anything that you could be there for him forever. “You’re meeting up with Sasuke soon, right,” you whisper, and his sigh sounds pained._

When it was satisfactorily sharp, you continued to whittle away at the stick until the sun came up, wiping at your eyes every few minutes.

_Itachi holds on for one more second before letting you go. “That’s right,” he says, and you know how much he adores his younger brother, but the tone of his voice is bittersweet. You close your eyes briefly, the summer breeze mixed with the clear air of the meadow making you a bit drowsy, but when you open your eyes again. Itachi presses his lips to your forehead gingerly, his thumb brushing your jawline very carefully, with the gentle touch you couldn’t find anywhere else. When he pulls away, one of his hands is resting on where your neck met your collarbone, and those dark eyes are staring into yours fondly. “You are important to me, (Y/n).” His gaze tears away from you. “I—I have to go.”_

Yawning, you tightened the lid on the jar and put the whetstone away in your bag. You should probably head home. Closing the pocket knife, it suddenly occurred to you that there were several other blades inside of the tool, so you should check them to see if they were dull or not. Your heart racing for reasons you weren’t quite sure of just yet, you pulled them out one by one, and by the time you were done, you didn’t even have the strength to throw it as far as you could.

The three other blades read _I love you._

Th—this wasn’t possible. You had seen those blades hundreds of times, you had been using that pocket knife for _years_ , how could th—how could someone have written that in there?! It wasn’t you, so how did someone find your knife and write things in there? How did they even carve that into metal with such a small space to work with? Was it maybe—?

Sasuke opened the door before you could even knock, apparently on his own way out, seeming a bit surprised to see you. “(Y/n)?”

He was the splitting image of Itachi, except for the haircut and the noticeable absence of the two stress lines under his eyes you adored so much on his brother. You swallowed; he must get that a lot, so you didn’t need to rub it in by bringing it up. “Sorry, Sasuke, I just—is it okay if I look in his room for something?”

“Who—? Oh,” he recovered quickly. “Well…” There was conflict in his eyes, and it was clearer than day that there was something he was keeping from you. Something important. There was so much hatred in his expression that you were almost afraid of what would have happened had you been a stranger who got in his way. That was never something you saw in Itachi… was that the curse of hatred? But then again, apparently you hadn’t known Itachi half as well as you thought. “I… uh…”

“If you’re going to go do something stupid that professional ninja have told you not to do, go ahead, be my guest,” you rolled your eyes, “but whatever it is, you still haven’t said whether or not I can—”

“Itachi is here, in the Leaf Village,” Sasuke blurted out, gesturing wildly, “and I’m going to avenge my clan, so if you feel sorry for him, go to his room, but stay out of my way!” The Uchiha sprinted off with a blood-curdling shout, faster than the speed of light, and you keeled over like you’d been shot. Because to be completely honest, that’s what it felt like. 

Opening the door, numb and weak in every movement, you made your way to his desk, rifling through the drawers for something, anything that hinted at recent activity. Maybe a screwdriver, or a slightly dented kunai, or welding material or—just anything that could carve into metal, really. You needed to know this was real, you needed to see his fucking existence and know that it wasn’t just your messed up head making everything up again.

Ants crawling into your vision, you could have fainted when you saw Itachi sitting up straight on his bed, gentle gaze pinned on you. Almost every facet of your vision swayed and blurred, but you winced, holding on to the wall, and it started to re-focus. He looked so much different from the last time you had seen him, and you nearly tore out the interior lining of your cheek from biting it so hard to stop yourself from bursting into tears. Those stress lines were the same, and his eyes were still as caring and wise, but his hair was longer, and he wore a long robe, an abyssal black with red clouds, outlined in white. The headband of the Leaf Village he used to champion so proudly had a mark slashed through the metal of its insignia. He was taller, stronger-looking, but… but he was still the same man you knew now. The same one who murdered the overwhelming majority of his clan. The man who cursed Sasuke with hatred, yet the same one who kissed your forehead, who gave you this knife, who protected you from asshole kids, who you thought was _dead,_ was sitting on his own bed, staring at you with a bittersweet smile, one that… one that your conscience told you he shouldn’t be allowed to have.

“Itachi…” You stood up straight, now, still pressed against the wall. “Long time, no see.”

“I wanted to show up earlier,” he said, calm. Calm as always, so reassuringly calm, but there was very little he—or anyone, for that matter—could do to quiet the shrieking confusion in your soul right now, pulling you towards and against him at the same time like two currents working to erode a boulder into a school of perfectly smooth pebbles. “To confide in you, to try and guide you, to apologize… but I was busy until now.” Itachi moved his hand, staring at it with a sort of apathetic glaze pinned to his irises. “Even this is a shadow clone. But don’t worry, he’s coming. To… to talk to you. Just probably not in the way you expect.”

You raised an eyebrow. “I’m going to need you to remember that I am not a ninja before you explain to me whatever the hell that’s supposed to mean. Also, I don’t have sufficient proof that you’re actually here right now, and not just inside of my imagination.”

The shadow clone grinned, and it didn’t seem malicious, either. “Well, that’s not going to help anything.” He closed his eyes, and exhaled slowly. “This is the Tsukuyomi.”

Waking up in a place with inverted colors, red and black everywhere, you were in exactly that meadow where you had last seen Itachi. Sitting up, you glanced to your right, before glancing to your left and jumping a bit. There he was… 

“I missed you, you know?” He leans back and sighs happily, not making an attempt to touch you or hug you at all. “You were the best damn thing about this town and you didn’t even know it.”

“Why?” It sounded so hoarse. Itachi winced. “Why to everything. Why did you kill your clan, why didn’t you come back before, why did you give Sasuke the curse of hatred?” You weren’t the same young girl with the same level of innocence, but you still wished you were in that moment. You wanted to keep him as your best friend and… and… You shut your eyes. “Even if it makes him stronger, it… I looked into his eyes as he left the house, Itachi. That is not a child anymore. It… he… It’s all just so much.” You gripped the claret blades of grass in trembling fingers, only daring to look at the former ninja beside you through half-lidded eyes, and not directly. “I just want an explanation… please, Itachi…”

He shook his head. “I can’t explain everything. I… still need you to hate me. That’ll make it easier.”

“I tried. Itachi, I _tried_ to hate you,” your voice cracked, “and I don’t think it’s possible. Even after everything you’ve done. I just can’t. And… and carving things into the knife you gave me is beyond cruel. It’s hard.”

“It’s true,” Itachi spoke immediately. “It’s true. I loved you.”

Your breath hitched yet again. “Loved…?”

A bittersweet laugh, a mere shadow of the one that used to make your insides twist into knots. “I can’t keep this from you, it hurts too much. It was an order. I turned my back on the Leaf Village by following the orders of the Leaf Village. That much I can divulge.” Itachi’s fingers, still larger than yours, still warm, touched the back of your hand gently. “I need to be the bad guy, for Sasuke’s sake. For the sake of the Village. His hate will die down, I promise you, but it will make him stronger. I’m here for the nine-tails, but I needed to tell you this.”

Wiping your face repeatedly, you breathed heavily, trying to stop crying and stop being a pussy about this. “Itachi… can… can you hug me? Like you did the last time we met. Just for a little bit, and then you can go, a—and I won’t tell anyone—”

Itachi wrapped his arms around you, stronger and taller than back then. You melted against him, the familiar scent still present in the Tsukuyomi. He was warm. Warm as always.

“Please don’t hurt Naruto,” you whispered, “he’s a good kid.” You kept your face close to the collar of his robe, trying to ingrain the feeling in your memory, before pressing a chaste kiss to the side of his cheek and letting go. 

“I love you.” Itachi stood, zipping up the robe so you couldn’t see his mouth, just his eyes and the world inside of them. “Goodbye. I’ll miss you.”

“I always will,” you exhale, slumping down to sit on the floor of Itachi’s room as the illusion of the Tsukuyomi faded back to black.


	7. neji || "diversion"; the take over, the break's over

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyyy so GUESS WHAT
> 
> BABY SEASONS CHANGE AND PEOPLE DON'T AND I'LL ALWAYS BE WAITING IN THE BACKROOM I'M BORING BUT OVERCOMPENSATE WITH HIT LINES AND FLASH FLASH FLASH 
> 
> _PHOTOGRAPHY_
> 
> anyways this chapter was titled after "the take over, the break's over" by fall out boy because the opening line that i just typed in caps is what i first thought of when i saw neji onscreen. i was like HOLY SHIT THIS GUY'S A TOTAL ASSHOLE then i finished the chunin exams arc and i was like HE'S LESS OF AN ASSHOLE
> 
> as always i am perpetually horny and i like this show a lot. i know i said the next chapter would be rock lee and it would be more uplifting but i was Wrong because the rock lee one got a bit depressing?? but im still gonna upload it when im done. anyways i hope you like this and i hope you're staying hydrated :>>>
> 
> also the kakashi sequel is in the works i just dont know how to provide a counterpoint to several points i brign up earlier it's a mess but it'll get out at some point. also want to plug my jojo's oneshots fic, ik the jjba fandom and mainstream anime fans don't always mesh super well but like. im proud of the writing. so
> 
> hope you're doing well and thanks for reading!! love, moose <333

“What do you want, Kiba?” You roll your eyes, letting him drag you aside. It’s probably not an awful idea, but you don’t trust him enough to be fully on board without hearing him out first. “I’ll say it now if it isn’t obvious: if I’m your last resort, then that means too many people have said no already for it to be a good idea.”

“Chill out, I haven’t asked anyone else,” he glanced around. This piqued your interest. He hadn’t asked anyone else? That was one hell of a red flag, but, well… now you were curious. “It’s about Hinata and Naruto.”

“Yeah, I think they’d be cute together.”

“No, that’s not what I’m—” Kiba shakes his head. “That’s not what I’m asking.” 

“Then what are you asking?” The question leaves him visibly vexed and irritated, but the way he scrunches his nose is a little funny, so you don’t feel bad about it. “C’mon, spit it out.” Your nails start to scratch behind Akamaru’s ears, and he leans into the motion, panting a little. “I don’t have all day. Well, I don’t have anything planned, but it’s important to me that it stays that way.”

“I need you to distract Neji while Hinata and Naruto go on a mission alone.” Kiba crosses his arms against his chest. That’s… very open to interpretation. You start to speak, but he continues and you shut your mouth. “Obviously after the chunin exams, Neji held Naruto in higher regards, but still, that doesn’t mean he wants him to date his cousin.”

“It’s… that’s none of Neji’s business, why do you even need someone to distract him?”

“I don’t know, (Y/n), it’s just in case,” he gestures in frustration. “Just fight him for a few hours and then you can go home and do whatever.” 

“And why me?” That’s the most important part, really. Why would Kiba want you specifically to fight arguably one of the most powerful genin in the Leaf Village? You were notoriously lazy and lacking in ambition. Kiba had no idea it was a front, so why in God’s name would he want you to fight Neji? You tried to scan his expression, but it didn’t change much. “Don’t say you think I have a chance of winning. Y’know, I might die. Death is not an impossibility here.” Naruto and Hinata would definitely be adorable together, but not to the point where you would die for them. “I know we’re not the best of friends, but if this is your way of getting rid of me, it’s not subtle and it’s not clever, either.”

“You really need me to explain it?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do. That’s why I fucking asked, Kiba. I think it might help a little.” Shit—your mask is slipping, you raised your voice; you’re sounding a bit aggravated. The genin looks surprised. God damn it. “Sorry, I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.” God, that’s a shitty excuse. And you wonder why you’ve never used it before. You rarely ever get sleep. Actually, it’s probably because you’ve never _had_ to use it before. You usually didn’t have a problem keeping a handle on your placid expression, so you never had to apologize for your asshole behavior. “Anyways, yeah. I don’t get it. Why me?”

The genin exhales, still a bit shaken off by your tone. That was so stupid of you, you’d have to kick yourself for it later. “Well, for starters, you don’t know Neji very well.” He wasn’t wrong, you supposed. “You enjoy provoking people who get upset easily, and you adjust to things easily. For example, last week. I remember asking what you had for lunch, and you just shrugged and said that you couldn’t tell the future. Neji’s worldview centers around the idea of fate and determinism, and if you talk at all while fighting, it’ll piss him off and you’ll think it’s funny. Time will pass more easily.” He taps his left palm with two fingers. “Second, you’re good at improvising and you don’t have much pride in yourself, so even though Neji is powerful, you have the instincts to find your way out of any situation because of your sheer commitment to not committing to anything. And third, you’re mildly attractive but not vain, and that might distract him.” Kiba spreads his palms to both sides. “That’s my reasoning. Do you want me to show my work for extra credit?”

Something’s off here, and that’s your central dilemma: why is Kiba doing this? Especially for Naruto and Hinata’s relationship. It needed to be done at some point, Hinata was too terrified to confess to him without external intervention, and Naruto was too dense to notice her feelings; but why was Kiba so invested in this? Did it really warrant this much thought and care? You must have been staring at him, because he raised an eyebrow at you, and you cleared your throat, averting your gaze. “You’re not asking me to seduce Neji.” It wasn’t a question.

“No shit, (Y/n). Only if nothing else works.” Kiba shrugs. Then it hits you. Of course.

Your index finger points at him, the rest curled into a pistol. “You like her.”

“That’s… irrelevant.” Kiba was really a terrible person to try and mess with, because given those red triangles on his cheeks, it’s pretty hard to tell when he’s blushing at first glance. “I just want her to be happy. It doesn’t matter to me who she cares about, I just want her to be happy. She’s found that in Naruto, I guess.”

“Aw, good boy,” you grabbed his collar and rubbed your knuckles into his roots. Kiba hissed, trying to finagle himself out of your noogie, but it was too late. “That’s rough, buddy. Sorry about your predicament.”

“You tell a soul and you’re dead,” he mutters. It’s a pretty sad situation, but he’s being… seriously mature about all of this. You wouldn’t have the same perspective in his position. It’s admirable, a side of him you hadn’t seen before. And because of that—because of his willingness to be vulnerable in front of you—you have to delegate a solid amount of respect to the genin in front of you. “I’m serious. I will murder you.” His tone is earnest enough, but you got the feeling that if he really wanted to threaten you, Akamaru would have stopped nuzzling your thigh.

Miming sewing your mouth shut and tossing away the key, you offered him a neutral smile. Guys like Kiba probably didn’t want pity, just the semblance of privacy. That much you could provide. “My lips are sealed. You’re a good friend for that, Kiba.”

He exhales for a bit too long, running a hand through his hair. “Whatever, (Y/n).” Biting his lip, he glances back at you, anxious to change the subject, probably. “So what do you say? Are you in?” After what he told you? Of course. Any day. But the version of you that he knows, that the rest of the village knows, would be more hesitant. She wouldn’t throw her hat in the ring quite so quickly. So you pretend to mull it over, before sighing and throwing your hands up in the air with a lazy grin.

“Sure, why not?”

That’s nothing close to what Neji says in response.

In fact, it’s a lot closer to “Excuse me, but who are you?”

You laugh, pretending that it didn’t sting. “Does it really matter?”

The genin holds his fingers to his chin in a moment of silent contemplation. “You must be (Y/n).”

“Fun. What tipped you off?” You needed to keep your tone lax, needed to remind yourself that you were supposed to be calm right now. Your placid demeanor came from repeated exposure to people you grew up with, not around people you didn’t know very well. 

“Your cavalier tone,” Neji explained. You felt yourself redden in secondhand embarrassment. Jeez… did he not get that it was sarcasm? Today was going to be a trainwreck, you could already tell. Whatever—you were doing this for Kiba, for Hinata and Naruto. “Besides, you looked somewhat familiar. However, your reputation precedes you.”

“How touching.” You started to clean out some of the dirt from under your fingernails. “So do you want to fight or not?”

Neji raised an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to beat someone else, but I don’t see the point. I’ll just beat you, and I doubt it’ll help you in the slightest.”

You shrug, keeping Kiba’s words in mind. _Neji’s worldview centers around the idea of fate and determinism, and if you talk at all while fighting, it’ll piss him off and you’ll think it’s funny._ He… kind of had a point, there. _“Comme ci, comme ça._ You don’t know what’s going to happen.”

Ah, so now you’ve got his attention. He opens his mouth and closes it, gathering his thoughts. Clearly he thought he was about to respond without thinking first, and it was going to be so rash. Kiba was right, this was kind of hilarious, how worked up he got. “Fate isn’t adjustable.”

“Yeah, but how do you know it’s fate? Maybe I’ll beat you, maybe I won’t.”

“Are you suggesting you have a tactic that would beat me?”

“Whoa, buddy. Hold your horses.” His movements were so elegant, especially next to yours. “I didn’t say that. I just said that you don’t know you’ll beat me.”

“Okay. I’ll fight you.” Neji’s eyes are narrowed. Damn, you didn’t think it’d be this easy… You try your best to hide the victorious grin attempting to spread across your face. “And I’ll win.”

“Will you?” You raise an eyebrow. You can tell it’s driving him insane.

“Absolutely,” he grits his teeth. You have his full attention. Damn, you haven’t messed with someone like this in _years…_ This is the best. “You wanted to fight without jutsu, correct? Just taijutsu?”

You nod, crossing your arms and adjusting into a casual stance. Balanced enough to absorb a hit, but flexible enough to keep you light on your feet. Neji definitely noticed it. It’s funny that he thinks he’ll need to use his Byakugan. If you beat him, it won’t be with something visible. He mirrors your actions somewhat, and you realize his reaction was in response to the fact that your stance happened to resemble his, which you knew from watching his fight with Naruto was a fighting style passed down solely within the Hyuuga clan.

His chest was his center of gravity, so you let your gaze settle there. In a moment of panic, you remember that Neji can see your chakra networks, and he can disable your access to chakra with a single blow. And that that move doesn’t count as jutsu, because it’s the taijutsu passed down within the Hyuuga clan. Maybe he didn’t look like he was about to block your chakra networks, but you had no way of telling whether or not he was dangerous in the moment.

Neji moved first, and you ducked, aiming to take out his legs, but he saw you move first, and all of a sudden, you were under Neji. Gaze flitting across his frame, you tried to assess his weak points, if any. He hasn’t immobilized your arms yet, so you reach around to grab at his long hair, tugging it back and rolling over. Neji lets out an uncharacteristically high-pitched yelp, but as soon as you get on top of him, he’s reversed your positions, this time his strands of pitch-black hair dangling in front of his face and grazing the bare skin of your shoulders.

He has you pinned to the ground, essentially helpless, the azure glow of chakra flickering and dancing across his fingertips as they near your heart. “Why did you ask me to do this,” he murmurs, completely focused on the task at hand. You can’t say the same for yourself; your thoughts continue to wander towards how he’s straddling you, the force with which he shoved you to the ground, how tightly he’s holding back your arm, how… exposed you feel under him. “You know you’re weak. You’re barely putting up a fight. Something is wrong.” There’s an atypical glint in his pale eyes; his fervor is leading to an opening. “This isn’t normal. Usually you would admit that you’re beyond redemption and give up, but this is entirely out of character for you. Who put you up to this? Why didn’t you ask Lee for help with taijutsu?”

“I… have a crush on him?” Scrambling for any excuse, your tone came off more like you were asking him than confessing anything, trying to cover up the hare-brained plan Kiba had concocted. If anything, mentioning the fact that this was for his cousin would aggravate him further, so this was a better save. Neji makes direct eye contact, eyebrows furrowed in clear confusion. “Yeah, I… have a crush on Lee, which would make it awkward for me to be around him. A—and you’re his rival, so—!” Everything was coming together, now. “Might even make him jealous, ha…”

“You like him?” Neji sits up, his grip loosening as he rises only up to his knees, letting you prop yourself up a little. You nod. His eyes cloud over a little; he seems… the closest to bewildered you had ever seen him. “Lee? _Rock_ Lee?” Nodding again, you start to wonder if this was the best decision. “You like Lee, to the point where you would want to grow stronger solely to impress him.” His eyebrow quirked when you nodded yet again. “...Why?”

“I mean,” you shifted the position of your legs under the guise of embarrassment, “he’s strong, he cares about other people. He has clear ambition.” Neji still doesn’t understand. “And,” you feign a longing sigh and one of those sweet smiles you see the love interests make in manga, “most of all, he wouldn’t fall for _this.”_ Your tone falters by the end, and you can see Neji open his mouth to say something, but in the half of a second after you finish your sentence, your thigh swings up to his shoulders, effectively rolling him over and placing you on his chest.

The genin looks so… caught off guard. That was close. Too close. “Dirty trick,” he mumbles, but it’s not venomous. In fact, if you didn’t know better, he might have even been blushing. Probably not. You let an unabashed grin cross your face for the first time in this entire practice. “So you were lying?”

“Yup,” you adjust your position very slightly. “Sure was. Lee’s okay, I guess. _You_ , my friend, made the fatal error of letting your guard down.” 

“While we’re on the topic of fatal errors,” he sounds rather strained; you can feel his shoulders try to move under your weight, “I had the courtesy to keep polite distance, and then you gained the upper hand. Which is why, I assume, your thighs are so close to my face.”

Shit. So he _was_ blushing. You clear your throat, trying to compose yourself. “Please. That was hardly polite distance. You were basically straddling me.” Now you couldn’t move your legs. That would be like admitting he was right. “You didn’t need to do that, I’m on top of you because I was trying to get out from under you.”

“Didn’t necessarily seem like it.” Neji looked awfully smug from between your legs. “You felt pretty powerless under me, didn’t you?”

He wasn’t wrong. You did feel weak, feel powerless under his oppressive frame, but… you were lying if you said that you didn’t enjoy it. “Y’know what, I could strangle you right now,” you muttered, a hint of heat gathering in your cheeks, but he just kept smirking. It was… infuriating.

It was all just too much. Neji was far too close for comfort. He was close enough to—to—

Out of nowhere you flinched and scooted backwards, the image of Neji dragging his tongue across the fabric of your shorts far too much for you to handle. As soon as you moved back, the genin sat up, his knees bent enough to—oh, God, you were straddling him, you landed back somewhere too… intimate for you to be comfortable. His larger hand sank into your shoulder, pale eyes burning into yours. “So you don’t like Lee,” he murmured, tone completely even, providing a sharp contrast to the red on his face, “but do you like me?”

Your gaze flitted down to his lips and back up to his eyes, and by the time he kissed you, you weren’t completely sure which of you had initiated it. Of all people, you had zero expectations for Neji to know what he was doing, but at the moment, your mind had gone completely blank, and all you really knew was that this felt good as hell and you needed it to keep going. You gripped his collar, pulling him down on top of you. 

It didn’t seem like he cared enough to remain pursuant of an answer to his question, and it also seemed like he got his answer. You gathered large portions of his sleek hair into a makeshift updo at the base of his neck, keeping it from getting in the way and wrapping your arms around him in the process. Neji pressed some of his weight onto your biceps and shoulders, forcing your hands out of his hair and freeing up your collarbone for him to separate, a thin line of saliva connecting his lips to yours, before moving towards where your jaw met your neck.

The smallest, quietest kind of groan left your throat, and after what felt like barely a few seconds, Neji kissed you again, hard enough to make your head spin even with your eyes closed. There was something there, something that had been festering for some period of time. Maybe this would have happened even if you said no at the start, maybe the two of you would have ended up alone some other time and you still would be here. You didn’t have a lot of time to think about other people, but in the few times the two of you had passed, he wasn’t easily ignored. That was such a passive way to describe it. It didn’t explain any of this fervor, it didn’t provide any reasoning behind the way you were pulling him closer, it didn’t tell you why he seemed like he _needed_ to be this close or he would fucking _die._ It all depended on that one choice you made, to do a favor for Kiba, to do a favor for… Wait, hold up… 

Wait… wait a minute, you should probably—

“Neji, you… you don’t, uh,” you panted into the kiss, a little unfocused, “you don’t care who Hinata dates, r—right?”

Neji narrowed his eyes. “It means nothing to me,” he sounded somewhat annoyed, “why?”

“No reason,” and you leaned in again, but he sat up a bit, the heat gathering in your core left to dispel itself elsewhere. It’s alien, and cold, and… it feels like someone ripped out your IV minutes before they were supposed to. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s dead,” Neji announces, miffed, before offering you his hand. You shake it, thoroughly confused. “Why were you thinking about my cousin?” That tone of betrayal… It feels out of place. He continues when you don’t respond. “I’ll see you when I see you.” The Hyuuga stands up, looking down at you with an expression you can’t quite place.

“Y… yeah,” you straighten your posture, completely bewildered, “I’ll see you when I see you.”

He left you in the middle of the clearing, sitting up and rubbing your neck where he sank his teeth. You brushed digits against your lips, swollen from being kissed, and tried to understand what exactly just happened. 

So he didn’t care at all. In which case… why did Kiba think this was an issue? Unless… Unless he had spoken with Neji beforehand and Neji had feigned disapproval because he knew that Kiba would send you as a distraction and he would get that opportunity. But… but no, that wasn’t possible. That was too difficult to foresee, probably. Then why didn’t Kiba account for the possibility that Neji wouldn’t give two shits about what Hinata does with her life? That had to be predictable. After all, the two of them weren’t exactly close. And why would Neji care that Naruto and Hinata were going alone? Maybe he would snitch about the fact that it was only two people going on a mission. But given the lack of manpower in the Leaf Village at the moment, that shouldn’t be anyone’s priority… so… what could possibly explain how these different factors collided like this? It had to be planned from the start. The likelihood of Neji simply deciding he wanted to make out with you, as a heat-of-the-moment, split-second decision, was a thousand to one. So why in God’s name would he—

“I’m guessing it went well?” A jolt to your system. You must have looked pensive. “They’re out on the mission. You can go back to your plans of doing nothing, now, if you want.” Akamaru wagged his tail in agreement, followed by a soft bark. “I mean, uh, me, Shikamaru, and Choji are getting dinner, if you want to tag along.”

“Fine by me,” you murmur, switching back to your typical aloof demeanor. “Should be nice to hang around some… friends.” Some well-needed platonic connection. “Thanks for the invite. You sure everyone else is fine with it?”

Kiba rolls his eyes, and you can tell he’s glad you haven’t brought up his earlier concession. “What are you, insecure? We’re all friends. I’m sure it’s fine.”

“Thanks a lot, man.” You wipe your chin a bit. 

“Yeah, anytime,” and the two of you head out.


	8. rock lee || "drop the guillotine"; do it all the time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yoooooooo
> 
> okay, so this one was based off of "drop the guillotine" by PEACH PIT and "do it all the time" by IDK HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME, both songs i love. sorry this isn't as, uh... upbeat as i said it would be, but i actually kind of like the way i wrote it :>>
> 
> i hope you guys enjoy the chapter and are staying hydrated!!
> 
> thanks, love, moose <33

Your eyelids habitually grew heavy at around ten in the night-time. Even in your attempts to pull all-nighters and to work hard at your jutsu, you were altogether unsuccessful. Sleep had a vice’s grip on you like some sort of delirium-inducing succubus, leaving you somewhat deranged and out of character when forced awake after a prolonged period of time. In an empty house you didn’t typically encounter this problem, but here you were surrounded by thin walls and injured ninja, each shifting or snoring or accompanied by an EKG machine beeping rhythmically. By default, you found great difficulty in falling asleep near other people, and so you naturally stared at the ceiling with bloodshot, watering eyes.

That was when you started to hear the tapping.

In your weakened mental state, your initial reaction was to assume you were finally losing it, holed up in this tiny, tiny room. But then you started to hear it at a particular time of the night, if you could trust the clock on the wall and its quiet, quiet, insufferable ticking. It ate away at you during the day. To watch the hours pass by was another form of torture. To hear the girl with the acrid voice replace your neighbor’s flowers daily was almost inhumane, her nails rapping against the glass of the vase. But to  _ see  _ the hands of the clock… After a while, you saw the hands of the clock as a window into the pilot’s cockpit of your own personalized hellscape. It was so… paralyzingly, tantalizingly, boring. 

As soon as you got out of this place, you swore you would never be early or punctual to an event  _ ever  _ again. To spite the construct of time. To enact vengeance on the hands of this infernal machine.

His tapping was rather staggered. You weren’t sure how long it took for you to realize it was in Morse code, but it was about double that amount of time before you collected yourself and attempted a response.

The message your neighbor sent out nightly was, you assumed, benevolent. You were rather fuzzy at your ciphers, but it would be good practice, right? Trying to write as quietly as possible, you scribbled out a legend for each letter and began your attempt to decode his message. It was kind of clunky, and definitely unreliable, but you found a certain solace in… understanding someone else, even just a little bit.

_ Feel better soon. _

Right; you could now certifiably pin down the source to your neighbor on the other side of the wall your bed rested against. The one with the flowers; she called him “Lee”. You inhaled and exhaled deeply, before covertly pressing a stolen spoon to the wall behind your head.  _ What are you in for?  _

_ Complicated, _ was his response. Heart beating faster than he could tap, you could hear the blood roaring in your ears like a wave pool. God, that was… you hadn’t spoken to someone your age in, what… months? And was he even your age? You had no clue, but for some stupid reason the corners of your lips curved upwards. It was… nice to speak with someone, albeit draining.  _ What about you? _

A pause before you responded, and you had to think for a minute.  _ Shrapnel _ , you hoped he got it right. You could hear him beginning to tap again, and in a moment of sheer panic you tried to elaborate. You couldn’t risk letting your interlocutor not respond.  _ Left side of my chest, _ you explained frantically,  _ probably fine anyways. Out in a few. Hopeful.  _

_ Chunin exams? _

_ No.  _ You hesitated, fingers starting to shake.  _ Other attack. It is fine. I am not in critical condition. Do you plan on retaking them? _

His words were excited, fast. You struggled to write it all down.  _ I need to train soon. The nurses say I cannot do much yet, so I am limiting myself to one hundred push-ups per day when I am allowed out. _

One  _ hundr—? _ You withheld the spoon for a moment. Who the fuck were you dealing with?

_ Hello? _

_ What is your name, _ you listen with baited breath. Whoever this kid is could compromise your road to swift recovery. In all honesty, you were waiting desperately for the day that you would either die in bed or be let out and waste away into nothing. You just wanted out. But this road you were taking, this path of poor impulse control, would make you… attached. Whatever. You brushed it off.  _ I’m (Y/n).  _

_ My name is Lee.  _

Most of the time, this kid was either snoring or attempting to exercise while bedbound. You found it a bit admirable, to be completely honest. Because of your current condition, getting up in any sense—or merely moving around too much—could cost you several days of consciousness, but he was just kind of… winging it. That took moxie. Maybe it was because he was a ninja already, because he was in ninja training. Something inside of you yearned for that kind of drive, yearned to have a purpose. A reason for the hospital to take care of you. Something… something that made you more than useless.

When he tapped again, it felt so… You didn’t really have the words for how your nervous system reacted to it. 

_ How are you doing? _

It’s a simple question but it sends your heart racing. Somebody who was nice enough to pretend to care. You grab your metal spoon and start to tap in response.  _ Same shit, different day. You?  _

_ Tired of being in here. _

_ Welcome to the club, _ and you snicker a little, before continuing with less malice.  _ That was kind of a dick move. You’re not used to being here, I shouldn’t make fun of you. _

_ You’ve been here for a while, then? _ Something shifts on his side of the wall.  _ Shrapnel doesn’t take that long to heal, I’m pretty sure. _

_ Something tells me I’m more of an expert on this front, Lee.  _

_ Right.  _ Another sound, but it’s not a tap. It kind of sounds like he let his head fall back against the wall.  _ Sorry about that. But how are you doing otherwise? I’m lucky enough to get flowers every day from this beautiful girl... _

Hospital life is boring. It calls for a certain willingness to subdue one’s internal desire for action and interaction. When you’re bound to a bed, you have to surrender your hope for a future where you can do things even as simple as get up and walk around. But… but it’s okay during times like these, when you can try your best to get to know someone.

The nurse set down your lunch on the table next to your bed, before turning around to get the hell out of there. And you didn’t blame her, you were not the sort of patient who appreciated condescension and you tried your best to make it apparent. 

“Um… excuse me, miss?”

She turned and paused, the sort of open-mouthed, pleasant surprise that you didn’t miss at all from being a normal member of society. “Yes? Is there something you need?”

Jerking your thumb over your shoulder, you tilted your head to the side very slightly. “Do you know who’s in the room over there? What’s he in for?”

“Oh…” Her face fell. “That’s Rock Lee. He was in here because he pushed himself too hard during the chunin exams and ruptured parts of his spine. It’s very likely that he won’t be a ninja ever again.”

“Is he in right now?” You tried to keep your expression clear, but she giggled quietly, and you could almost feel your ire begin to resurface, burning its way up your throat. “I asked you a  _ question— _ um, I mean… I asked you a question, ma’am.” Her eyebrow rose and you swallowed your embarrassment. “Is he in right now?”

Her laughter ceases, and you have no idea what’s causing these rapid mood swings. Good fucking lord, just choose an emotion and keep it all the time. You managed to fill yourself with white hot anger on a daily basis. It’s not like it’s hard. “Well…”

“Give me a straight answer, woman,” you hurled a plastic fork in her direction with a rather weak amount of force. It ricocheted off the wall harmlessly. She didn’t even flinch, instead giggling again.

“Lee is undergoing extremely experimental surgery right now, to correct his spinal fractures. Should be over soon.” Her placid grin made for an odd juxtaposition with what she was saying. “The odds of him surviving are fifty-fifty. But why do you care? I’m pretty sure he has a girlfriend, that Sakura girl who visits him every day.”

“It means nothing to me. I just wanted to know.” That stupid look on her face, mixed with the awkwardness of the tonal shift in your voice made you wish you knew any jutsu just so you could pound her into the abysmal tile of the hallway, add some color to it. “Get out.”

Your nurse complies, the veins on the backs of her hands popping out as she closes the door. 

You’re not jealous.

You’re not jealous, because that would be stupid. It would be so… so  _ incredibly _ stupid, to feel something like that, especially towards someone who you had only known for a few months, now. Especially because of your current condition. Especially because he was the only person who really treated you like another human being. No fake pity, no exaggerated sympathy, no tone shifts that would betray how he actually felt. Just tapping on the wall. Just a guy being himself, no need to keep up false pretenses. 

It’s just so pathetic and sad that the first real friend you ever got to have had to… turn into this sort of… it’s so… You hurled your ceramic mug at the wall, watching it shatter and split into dozens of razor-sharp fragments. Sure, you were being a brat about this, but how much of a difference did that make when all anyone ever did was treat you like a child?

Pushing aside your sheets, you got up and started to walk down the hallway.

Tsunade’s assistant looks up at you, and as she barely recognizes you she lets out a small gasp. “Shizune? What is it?” The Hokage sees you standing in the doorway, and her brow creases in response.

You don’t notice it, your vision goes black for a minute. Staggering a little, you cling to the door frame with a small cry, and when life returns to your eyes, the two of them are staring at you, haunted. “Is he gone?” Your question hangs in the dead air like ripped cloth dangling from a root off the side of a cliff, rippling with the wind. “I asked you a question, Lady Hokage. Is he gone?”

The only thing she says is “You should be in bed.” As if you didn’t know that. You roll your eyes, inching closer, still holding on to the wall. “What are you doing walking around?”

That must mean… that must mean he… he didn’t… 

He’s gone. The dark bags under both of their eyes, the dejected airs of the room… They lost a patient. That must be it.

So he’s gone.

“Of course,” you scoff to yourself, bitterness rampant in your inconsistent tone. “Of course. I make a friend,” your heart races, “and this hospital takes him away, too. I don’t know what I expected. There’s no use, is there?” The blonde woman seems like she can’t look away from your form, whereas her assistant readies a few knives in between knuckles.  _ Go ahead, make this about yourself, _ you chastise internally,  _ go blame someone’s death on how useless you are _ . “There’s no use. Okay, then. I’ll go back.” You limp back to your bed, heartbeat pulsing every time you press your hand to the wall.

By the time you wake back up, there’s a girl by your side that you’re sure you’ve never seen before in your entire life. She smiles like she’s known you for the entirety of yours. Your first instinct is to shoot up, to push her away, but for some reason your body doesn't let you. The girl smiles again, her pink hair falling a little into her face. You scan her face, trying to understand why she would be here. If she’s a new nurse, they should have told her you were a lost cause by now. So why is she here? Why is this pretty girl here, why would she have any reason to be here?

She keeps that awful, awful, benign grin on her face, like she knows how your head is pounding in confusion and anger. This is all just so tiresome. The positive part of living here is dead, now. You shouldn’t have let yourself  _ soften  _ like that, you shouldn’t have let yourself grow blind to reason. You exposed your own weakness. You let yourself care about something and it got ripped away. First your parents, then your health, and now Lee. Now you got someone else involved in your own curse, now you… now you… now… you…

Of course. It was so simple. 

Ask. 

_ Ask  _ her. And she’ll tell you. Maybe, just maybe, she’ll give you the answer. Maybe she’s going to tell you that they’re pulling you off life support. Maybe she’s telling you that you’re done for. Maybe she’s here to give you the good news that your life might be—

A shake of the head. Just do it, (Y/n). Just  _ do  _ it. 

“Wh… why are you here?” You push yourself up to a sitting position, but she smiles again and pushes you back down. 

“Because Lee hasn’t gotten here yet.” So… so she must know him. The blood in your head is going other places. Pooling in your hands, in your feet, gathering in your cheeks, maybe, but not… not to your brain. You let her push you down to a completely horizontal position. “Then I’ll go. You  _ are  _ (Y/n), right?”

“Yes.” No matter how out-of-body you experienced life at any given time, you had been forced to confirm your own name in so many checkups that at no point were you ever light-headed enough to forget it. “Are you… am I dead?” 

That was the only sensible option. So why did she laugh? This girl was strange. Very, very strange. Your eyebrows must have furrowed, because hers quirked in response. “No, you’re not dead.” The girl sets down a small plastic cup filled with water very slowly in front of you, on your medical table. “My name is Sakura, by the way. Why would you think that you’re dead?” You remain silent for a moment, sincerely thinking she’s joking—because she  _ has  _ to be joking, right?!—and she begins to look up and grin and tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. “What, is it because I look like an  _ angel  _ or something—?”

“No,” you cut her off, the back of your hand making smooth, precise contact with the cup as you smacked it across the room. The water splattered across the wall. She flinched. It was of no consequence to you, so you had no similar reaction. “It’s because Lee is dead. So I can’t see him.”

That laugh is such an evil sound, reverberating in your skull without reprieve. You clutch at your ears, hissing a little, and she stops, the raucous laughter dissipating into a quiet giggle like when you hit the water of a stream and the splash turns into an archipelago of tiny bubbles, varying in size and shape as they get smaller and smaller and eventually vanish. A blink of the eyes, and then you refocus. A… stream? Why were you thinking of a stream? It… that imagery was of no consequence to you, either. “Sorry,” Sakura places a hand on your shoulder that for some reason you find yourself too weak to knock off, “but he’s not dead.”

Breath catches in your throat, but she doesn’t hear it. You can’t hear it over the sound of the door opening, the handle turning and the metal inside by the door clicking. 

“You’re (Y/n), right?” 

“You don’t look anything like I expected,” you murmur. He does look something quite strange, with that green jumpsuit, but it’s still him all the same. He laughs, like he’s nervous. But why would he be nervous? There’s no reason for him to be nervous. “I thought you would be…” You stare a little, a bit too tired to care about how impolite it must seem. “...less vivacious, I suppose.”

He manages to steady himself a little, before sitting on the bed next to you, pretty close. “I get that a lot,” Lee says with a smile wide enough that it looks just about ready to split his face in half.

Neither of you say anything else, but the way he grips your hand says enough.


	9. kakashi || "for a few scarecrows more"; untie you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok so the song for this one is "untie you" by sir chloe
> 
> uh... sorry it's kind of shit lmao
> 
> i don't have much else to say lol, sorry this took so long
> 
> hope you like it and stay hydrated!!!
> 
> love, thanks, moose <333

“You seem… down.”

Kakashi pushed down his headband yet again to cover his sharingan eye. It hurt to keep them both open, really. Restless sleep would do that to a guy. “What makes you say that?”

_ “I haven’t been completely honest with you.” You could feel his words vibrating throughout his chest. “Tonight was kind of a dry run, to test how I felt. I really shouldn’t have used you like that, but it was sort of an experiment to see if I really did… feel that way for you. And I was right, but it still put you on the spot and I shouldn’t have done it. Plus, it was kind of stupid on my part, realizing my feelings when there’s no way you’ll return them.” _

The jounin shrugs, the crumpled cigarette in his mouth moving rapidly as he spoke. “You’re paying even less attention to my stories about my re—about my totally platonic interactions with Kurenai. You look like you’re about to pass out at any moment. Your eyes are bloodshot. You didn’t tie your headband tight enough, so it’s slipping down a little. Oh, and I can’t  _ believe  _ I’m saying this, but you were on time. It’s really not at all like you, you know.”

“Well, I’m…” He hesitated, realizing he was about to divulge his feelings. After all, he couldn’t have Asuma finding out what you said and telling Kurenai, could he? Considering all the work she put into being the best wingwoman possible, he… really didn’t have enough experience in this sort of situation to gauge her hypothetical reaction. Besides, married couples told each other almost everything, right? Right. Kakashi coughed fakely, slumped over the table. “I’m fine.”

_ Feeling his heart beat like crazy against your shoulder blade, you knew he was waiting for you to say something in response. To confirm or deny that you felt the same way. To acknowledge his feelings and then pick one path or another. But you had to take the future into account. You had to understand the effect that a casual union and the inevitable split would have on your relationship as friends. You had to take into consideration the hours that Kakashi put into his work, you had to remember your job, your own responsibilities… you had no idea what he would be like in a real relationship as opposed to a test drive.  _

Asuma stared at him with an eyebrow raised, his tone laced with concern. “Doesn’t look like it. What, did she turn you down?” His eye widened. How the hell did the jounin guess his problem with such accuracy—? Okay, that was it; that was officially the last straw. Kakashi let his neck slacken completely, face down between his arms. He couldn’t see his coworker’s expression, but he could hear the sympathetic smile in his voice. “Rejection’s tough, isn’t it? Some more sake, please. Thank you.” 

“How did you figure it out?” His voice cracked. Kakashi cursed himself. “I mean, I thought I kept it better under wraps than… How?”

“When you’re in a rel—when you’re as  _ single _ as I am,” Asuma corrected himself with a sense of urgency, but Kakashi really didn’t have it in him to question the sudden change, “you notice more things. You haven’t, ah… done anything since Rin, right?” No comment. Absolutely no comment. He wasn’t positive he was capable of breathing at the moment. Did the jounin mean sexually or romantically? Either way, he… No comment. Asuma chuckled, appearing to take his silence as an answer. “Correct me if I’m wrong—actually, if you could move at all, so I know you’re not comatose, that would be great—but that makes this your first rejection, then, doesn’t it? That’s sad, though. She seemed really into you.”

Kakashi reluctantly sat up straight, running a hand through spiky silver hair. “Way to rub it in.” He moved to open up  _ Icha Icha Innocence _ , but he couldn’t do that without reminding himself of you, yet again. The way you cuddled up against him like second nature, the euphoric sensation of holding you in bed, the feel of your smaller fingers intertwined in his… the way that dress hugged your curves, how adorable you got when your face tinted red… He felt like a junkie, addicted to you and going through withdrawal. “Actually, it’s worse.”

After offering the copy ninja a cigarette, which he politely declined, Asuma offered him another cigarette, but this time with a sympathetic look. “How can it be worse?”

\---

You sat in your bed, already pissed off—and it was three in the afternoon. God… how had you slept in that long? That should have been impossible. The genin brat pounded on your window, hollering about something or other, but you didn’t even have the energy to shrug it off. Almost falling on your way out of bed, you went to get dressed, before realizing you were already in a T-shirt and jeans.  _ Jeans _ . Holy… fuck. You slammed a palm against your forehead, dragging your fingertips down your face. How tired do you have to be to fall asleep in  _ jeans? _

“I’m hungover on life,” you told your ceiling fan, who kept spinning spitefully, “and you’re just some common bitch.” Why couldn’t you do that? Having one purpose and fulfilling it perfectly, that is. Your ceiling fan didn’t have to worry about hot neighbors and weird fake-dating situations. Your ceiling fan only had to worry about electricity and being plugged into the ceiling, or something—you weren’t some kind of air conditioning scientist. This ceiling fan was more self-actualized than you could ever hope to be.

Like, it knew its purpose. Being a part of the ceiling, providing minimal cooling, whirring around fast enough to add a significant amount of money to your security deposit, just… spinning around all the time. As soon as you press the button, it does what it needs to. Not without fail, but… but it never had to reach higher. It knows exactly what it’s capable of. You had around twenty-six years of life experience, and maybe fifteen on this ceiling fan, so how come it knew more about its purpose than you knew about yours?

Upon realizing that you were actually jealous—like, on the brink of tears kind of jealous—of a  _ ceiling fan _ , you muttered, “Wait, am I high?” before rushing to open the door.

The noises went from somewhat muted shouting amongst the typical music of nature in the bright and early morning to a display of panic akin to a junkie on a bad trip as you opened the door to your own apartment. You watched in sluggish confusion as your neighbor’s student ran to you.

“What’s the blunder, tiny thunder?” As you ran a hand through your catastrophic bedhead, you already found yourself seriously regretting your decision to wake up this morning. “You here to stalk another father figure? I gotta warn you, though, I don’t know where Jiraiya is for  _ sure _ , but if it  _ does _ have something to do with the  _ Icha Icha _ book signing, I’m out, because—”

“What did you do to Kakashi-sensei?!” Naruto yelled, completely ignoring the god-awful nickname you gave him in favor of trying to threaten you. You grimaced at the genin’s uncanny ability to dredge up any topic you didn’t want to talk about, which appeared to be a direct variation between the amount of discomfort behind the scenes and his oblivious comments. “Is he under a genjutsu? Did you drug him? Is he an  _ alien!?” _

God  _ damn  _ it… You winced at the topic. And you were trying so hard to focus on other things… and by trying so hard, you meant not at all… Closing your eyes for a minute and exhaling, trying to keep that knot in your chest from unraveling at the drop of a hat, you leaned against your own doorframe. “That’s… a rather sore subject. What did he do?”

Naruto grasped the collar of your shirt, voice grave as he yanked you down. “He was on  _ time _ .”

\----

Back in the restaurant, Kakashi gestured vaguely. Asuma sat opposite the copy ninja, past several rounds of sake, spellbound after having picked his chin up off of the floor. “Anyways,” the copy ninja feigned an aloof calmness, “I should be off. The next installment of my favorite book series comes out today, and I don’t want to miss the signing.”

“You should seriously talk to her about this,” mumbled the sensei of the tenth team of genin, slumped over the table. Kakashi didn’t even need to consider that option to know it would only end in disaster. “That’s… that’s a real issue…”

“Okay, look,” Kakashi sat back down after having attempted to get up. “I tried. I said how I felt, and she… that’s how she responded. They’re valid concerns,” he noticed Kurenai file into the seat next to Asuma, strangely close, but continued nonetheless, “that I don’t know how to refute. I mean, she is a civilian, and I’m not. Plus, I work long hours. It makes sense for that to cause a build-up of pressure on a relationship. Not to mention the fact that I  _ could  _ die, or someone could target her. That would kill me and it’s a completely fair perspective. I’m going to  _ respect  _ what she said, and leave it at that until I’m over her and we can be  _ friends  _ again—” The copy ninja ran a shaky hand through his gravity-defying hair a few times, taking a deep breath and returning to a more stable tone. “I’m sorry. I flew off the handle.”

By the time Kakashi opened his uncovered eye, Gai was also sitting across from him. He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, before shrugging it off. His plan was to storm out as slowly as possible, to prove that he was  _ calm  _ right now, and under  _ control,  _ until Kurenai spoke.

“Sure, those are hard to refute,” she stared at the wood markings on the table and the puddles of condensation from spilled drinks, “but not impossible.” Kakashi didn’t dare turn around to look at her. “I get it. You’re worked up over this, and for good reason. I can tell she meant a lot to you. But look at you. You raised your voice about two decibels and called it flying off the handle.” The jounin captain of the eighth team of genin looked up at him from her position squished between Gai and Asuma. “Sometimes avoiding risk is a good thing, but when you’re so afraid of losing someone that you don’t let yourself get attached, you start to miss out on the good opportunities. I mean, we don’t live forever, right?”

“Kurenai is right, old rival.” Gai grins. Kakashi’s resolve crumbles and he turns around, still refusing to sit down. “I go on about the power of youth, but that’s not just for me and Lee’s show-stopping taijutsu or the beauty of teaching something new to the next generation…!” The man with a bowl cut wiped a few tears from his eyes. “The power of youth is the ability to experiment, to learn from your mistakes. And… trust me on this one, Kakashi,” Gai’s smile drops. He’s dead serious. It’s a rare sight. “You never learn if you don’t fuck up a little.”

Something in the metaphysical area between his chest and his stomach twisted, hardening and sharpening. “That’s a nice sentiment,” the silver-haired jounin could barely hear himself through the blood roaring in his ears, “but I should minimize the amount of people I hurt. She’s smart enough to realize that. Besides, I’m twenty-seven,” his gaze honed onto Gai. “I don’t think the power of youth is on my  _ side _ anymore.”

“Hey,” the smoker at the table cut in. “Have a bit of fucking faith, why don’t you?”

Something about the way he said it made it sound different, registering fully. Of… of course. He had to have  _ faith. _ He had to think twice before he gave his heart away. And besides, he knew all the games you played, because he played them, too. Still, he needed time off from all of that emotion, a bit of time to pick his heart up off the floor—Kakashi shook his head like one of his ninken after a training session in the rain. This was serious business, he didn’t have time to remember song lyrics. Asuma made a ‘tch’ sort of noise, flicking his cigarette—already put out, thankfully—at Kakashi, who swatted it away even in his delirium. 

The bearded jounin shrugged, not even reaching for another camel. “Right. The two of you are both cynical beyond belief in your world views and attracted to each other. I don’t think you’ll find that kind of match just anywhere.” Kurenai watched him speak with baited breath. “Besides, you're not even in your thirties yet.” Asuma spreads his hands out in a fan. “All four of us,  _ including you _ , teach children. You had faith in Naruto. You can have faith in anything. Go try again, Kakashi. What you told me she said wasn’t a full rejection.”

“I… alright.” Kakashi felt that familiar wave of calm flow over him again, and he had strength enough to flash the group a closed-eye smile. “Thanks, man. See you around.”

“See you,” Asuma lit another cigarette.

Sakura and Sasuke stood in front of you, the kunoichi fidgeting with her kunai knives nervously. You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Okay, so was he right on time, or was he early?”

“He was early,” Sakura looked like she had seen a ghost. “He got there ten minutes early and apologized for being late, saying—”

“That he got lost on the path of life,” you interrupted her, only to realize that the four of you had spoken in unison. “Ha… he does use that one a lot…” You scratched the back of your neck. “Anyways, continue, Sakura. Sorry for interrupting.”

Now the look on Sakura’s face more so resembled someone who had been  _ possessed  _ by a ghost. She bit her lip. “His clock was set an hour late. God, I’m so  _ worried— _ ”

“It’ll be okay, Sakura,” Naruto asserted with no proof, “we’ll get him back to normal. Now  _ you,” _ he pointed directly at you with a slight growl, making piercing eye contact, “have to fix this!” You blinked. “I don’t know how, or what you’re gonna have to do, but you’re gonna do it! I swear it! And I never go back on my word, because  _ that  _ is my nindo. My ninja w—”

You smacked the back of his head viciously. “Dumbfuck.” The pink-haired kunoichi gasped, a bit surprised, but Naruto was on the ground. You furrowed your eyebrows. “Shit, I forgot I can’t curse in front of you guys… oh, wait, dammit! Wait—aw, fuck, that’s—oh,  _ shit—”  _ You inhaled deeply, regaining your composure. “Anyways, this is kind of adult business. I hate to pull that card, because I remember hating when adults used it on me, but trust me, you fully do not understand the extent of this situation, okay?” Sasuke crossed his arms against his chest, about to challenge you, but you kept talking. “What I mean is basically… don’t make promises about  _ my  _ romantic life, don’t plug your campaign for Hokage, and don’t blame me if everything goes up in flames. You guys get to hedge your bets on this, and I do not.” Naruto got back up on his feet. “Now tell me: where the hell is your sensei right now?”

Sakura focused for a minute, putting her finger to her chin. “I think he said he was going to a book signing—?”

He’s easy to spot. No _ shit, _ you scold yourself. Of course he is. He’s Kakashi fucking Hatake. 

That familiar gravity-defying hair peeks out in the crowd, and so you struggle your way through, pushing to find him. Surrounded by older men—this was why you made most of your purchases online, you thought bitterly as you pushed aside someone who in the best of situations was out to pickpocket you—he was standing just as he usually did, no attempts to hide himself. Of course he stood out, in accordance with your own personal tastes, but god, was it so…  _ potent  _ to see him again. It hit you way harder than you expected, almost knocking all of the wind out of your chest.

No. No, you could do this. You could do this. You  _ had  _ to do this. 

Kakashi turns around at your light touch to his shoulder, and the look of his bloodshot eyes is almost too much to handle. He looks rather puzzled. Those butterflies in your stomach don’t flutter. They’re burning alive. You swallow, throat and tongue dry, and that’s when you realize that this is the worst possible place to be doing this. “(Y/n)?” The smallest, most innocuous voice crack even goes completely unaddressed. “What are you doing here?” You almost completely lose your nerve, and for a second it looks like he’s hurting just as much as you were, but then he keeps talking. “I didn’t think Icha Icha was your cup of tea.”

“Well… uh… well,” you pause, mouth open as if you expect the right words to just poof into existence between your lips, subconsciously shifting your weight from foot to foot, “it’s not. I’m here to talk to you.”

“Why?” He cocks his head to the side, avoiding your gaze. “I mean, I was going to go find you as soon as I got my copy signed, but why did you want to talk to me?”

Trying to push down your own self-doubt, you aim to just… speak your mind. It barely works. You scratch at your neck a little, but it still comes out stilted. “Kakashi, I… Forget what I said, okay?” For the first time today, he turns and makes piercing eye contact. You… really hadn’t seen him for a while, and those eyes—one black, one red—just—it was too much. Too much. “I like you. I miss you too much to ignore you like this, alright? So if you want, we can… hang, sometime.”

It’s subtle, but you’re absolutely positive that you can see a smirk curve its way across his face. “Has it been that long?”

Wh—?!

Your arm sinks into the muscle of his bicep without hesitation. “God, shut up! I’m serious!” But the offended cry dissolves into quiet, nervous laughter, only that way until you notice how his jaw angles under the mask. It’s an obvious smile, the first of its kind you’ve ever seen on your neighbor. “I’m completely serious. And I think the risks are worth it. Can you give me the answer or do you need some time to think it over?”

He doesn’t even need you to finish your sentence as he drapes an arm over your shoulder, mostly confident but still a bit shakily. “Let’s get out of here, alright?”


End file.
